


Make It Right

by Fae_Ryn



Series: Making a Difference Series and Connected Stories [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Body/Soul/Mind Sharing, Especially You Gaster, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I Know It's A Long Story But I'd Like To Think It's Worth Reading, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse, Implied/Referenced Past Abuse (Frisk), It Was Sort Of Implied But Since It's Been Stated Outright Now, M/M, Many Lying Characters, Multi, No Smut, Papyrus Is Not A Child, Rated Mature For Swearing And Violence, Reader And Their Sister Have Abusive Parents, Reader Insert, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader's Gender And Assigned Sex Are Not Stated, Resets and Saves Play A Major Role, Slow Build Up To Real Plotline, Some World Building And Mentions of The War, Sometimes To Fix Things You Need To Break Them, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing, Updates Are Sporadic Sorry, reader is also not chara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 62
Words: 264,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5242649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fae_Ryn/pseuds/Fae_Ryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd like to think you're pretty normal. Sure, you're a famous author and you ran away to the middle of nowhere to live in your deceased estranged uncle's house, but that's normal, right?</p><p>Alright so maybe things were weird before the barrier broke too. Not that they haven't gotten weirder since, what with the six monsters now sharing your house with you and your sister. It isn't long before you start realizing that there's something bigger going on, and Sans is holding back information. Couple that with the baffling coincidences piling up, the uncomfortable feeling that you're forgetting something important and the rising levels of intolerance in the small town you live next to, and you've got an explosive situation. </p><p>And all that before the roof comes crashing down on your head.</p><p>Includes:<br/>- Reader beating up a dude<br/>- Or five dudes<br/>- Frustrated siblings<br/>- A ghost kid who is Doing Their Best Damn It<br/>- One angry skeleton. Maybe two.<br/>- Kids with too much on their shoulders<br/>- Ruining a Good Ending in hopes of a better one<br/>- Frustration (TM)</p><p> </p><p>Seven humans souls to break the barrier. Can an eighth give everyone the ending they deserve?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Too Much Running

Had anyone ever bothered to ask you if you believed in fate, you would have said no.

Fate, in your opinion, was an excuse people used when they didn't want to confess that whatever was going on was their fault. You supposed that it must help to be able to blame their god/s.

So, had anyone bothered to ask you what had led you to your current situation, your answer wouldn't have been fate, but an interesting series of coincidences.

No unseen puppeteer made you get up last night and write for hours on end instead of sleeping.

Nothing but your typical everyday computer malfunction was behind everything failing to save properly.

The fact that among these strange changes was some of the rough draft for your newest book having changed into Wingdings, of all things, didn't mean anything.

It was certainly not anyone's fault but your own that you had decided to postpone your morning run in an attempt to fix your story instead of taking a break.

And you were definitely sure that nothing otherworldly made you decide to take a run through the woods around your place instead of sticking to your usual laps around the perimeter of your fence.

Now that you think of it, that was a very interesting series of coincidences though. And you really don't have much else to think about as you run through the woods, aside from your hatred of running. You really, really hate running.

You have a bad habit of thinking too much, you decided, upping your pace a bit to force your mind elsewhere.

You slow to a walk when you hear shouting from nearby. You know for a fact that no one should be this close to your house, even though you are about two miles from it at this point. Your uncle had lived a very solitary life in a large house about fifteen miles from the nearest town, and when you'd been given the place after he died, you'd found that your nearest neighbors were a good six miles away, not including the huge apple and almond orchards that separated them even further. Well, there had been a recent addition of more neighbors, but they hadn't caused this kind of trouble.

You quiet your breathing and make your way over to the noise. Unfortunately, you are concentrated so hard on the noises still coming from in front of you that you don't notice your surroundings and run smack into the middle of a spider web. You silence a shriek and bat it off as best you can, hoping that its occupant is elsewhere.

As you draw closer, you realize there are two male voices talking to each other and laughing. You occasionally catch the sound of a small whimper, as though from a dog or helpless child.

"Okay, how much if I hit it's antenna?"

"Bro, you hit that and I'll pay for tonight's drinks!"

The voices rise in laughter as you finally draw close enough to see what is going on. The boys, much to your disappointment, are teens you recognize. They live in town, you'd met their parents, and they'd seemed like nice enough kids.  That was, until now. The whimpering sounds are coming from a small monster of maybe two feet. It looks somewhat like a cross between a bug and a ghost. It's tied with rope to a nearby tree, and shaking violently. It looks to be in pain and you saw why as one of the boys, Andrew if you remembered correctly, draws back his arm and throws a stone at it has hard as he can. The stone hits the monster square in the side, causing it to squeal loudly in pain.

"Awh c'mon man, you throw like a bitch!”

“Language, kiddo,” you say, moving into their line of sight. It takes everything you’ve got to act calm, you’re so angry. But anger isn’t going to solve this for you. The teens at least have the sense to look embarrassed.

“Uh, we were just - ” Andrew begins.

“Torturing an innocent creature, yes. I can see that much. You two know who I am?”

The boys nod.

“Then you’re well aware that I have sherrif Abraham’s number on this phone. Who do you think he’s gonna listen to, a couple of punk kids or me?

The boys look at each other and then back at you. You find yourself wishing you had some kind of weapon on you, then remember you’ve still got your pocket knife on you. Slightly comforting, you suppose.

"Boys, I'm going to say this nicely. And if you don't listen we're gonna move on to the part where I report both of you to the police like you deserve. You want that on your permanent records? Think a college is gonna want to take a couple of punks beating up people in the woods? No? You want to avoid that, you're going to turn around, and you're going to start walking, and you aren't going to stop until you've made your way home. You have ten seconds."

"What the fuck man, you can't tell us what to do! You'd taking this things side over a human's? You're a fucking species traitor, that's what you are! We aren't going to -"

He falls silent as you pull out your phone, tap Abe on your contact list, and turn it around to show them.

"Boys, I'm not playing around. You take your asses and you get yourselves moving. You now have three seconds."

Both teens turn and start walking, although neither of them look happy about it. You immediately send a text to Abe telling him that there’s been a fight between the teens and a monster, monster is the only one hurt and not likely the aggressor, and that you’re going to try to help it. You wait until the boy's footsteps are a good ways off before slowly approaching the pitiful monster before you.

"Oh man, you look terrible," you whisper, and it's true. The little guy in front of you is pretty beat up. It whimpers and tries to shrink away from you as you approach with your hands up in a peaceful gesture. You test the ropes tying it there, and quickly realize that the only way to get them undone was to use a knife.

"Okay, hey there little guy. My name is ______, I promise I'm not going to hurt you but we need to get these ropes off, alright?"

The monster goes quiet, and you panic.

"Oh shit, come on no little guy you can't die here," you say, pulling out your pocket knife and sawing through the ropes.

The monster slumps forward as the ropes fall off and would've fallen if you hadn't caught them. It's surprisingly light. You lay them on the ground and try to check for a pulse.

"Wait damn it do you guys even have pulses? How do I find it if you do? Ah shit, shit shit shit shit shit, I can't help you... Fuck."

You lean back on your heels, the monster before you still unmoving. You vaguely know that their bodies are made of magic, but you certainly don't know how to assist the little one before you. No, you can't, but...

"Oh my god I'm such an idiot!" you exclaim, picking up the monster in one arm. "I can't help you, but I know who can! Hang in there, I'm going to get you back home, okay?"

You're surprised and relieved to hear a soft hum from the monster. At least it's still alive.

The monster camp is actually very close to where you are now - you're pretty sure it's only about a three miles away. It's kind of sad, but even five months after they'd finally left Mt. Ebbot, the monsters are still being forced to live in what was supposed to have been a temporary camp. You were just glad you'd heard the commotion before you'd completely worn yourself out running.

You supposed you could chalk your knowledge of the camp up to another fortunate coincidence. You'd made friends with the county sheriff nearly as soon as you'd come to town, and when Abraham had caught a cold a few weeks ago, you'd agreed to transport supplies to the camp. Your general impression had been a group of very friendly, if odd looking, people.

You set off at a pace only slightly faster than your usual run. You couldn't afford to run out of energy.

"So uh, pretty sure you'd rather not hear me talk but I think it's probably a good idea if you don't fall asleep? Maybe that's just a human thing but hey I really don't know that much about monsters if I'm honest. So I'm going to assume you're at least somewhat like us."

You break off, jumping over a small creek. The monster in your arms whimpers a bit as you jostle it upon landing.

"Sorry about that. Anyways, this shouldn't take me too long, we'll have you home really soon. My sister is never going to let me hear the end of this though. She's pretty excited to have you guys as neighbors, she goes over to help sometimes, maybe you've met her? Her name is Ferrin. She's pretty awesome if I do say so myself."

You keep up a stream of similar babble all the way to the border between the woods and the hills beyond. You really aren't sure that this is helping the little monster, but it is a way for you to calm your nerves, so you supposed at least it isn't doing any harm. As you come upon the last of the trees, you can finally see ahead of you. You really, really don't like what you see.

"Well, shit. I guess I'm going to cross a freeway. On foot. If Abe were here, he would murder me."

You stop when the toes of your shoes touch the asphalt, and carefully look both ways. It appears clear, but you still really hate to do this. You sprint across, glad you live in a small town that no one really visits.

You keep going, breathing hard. The monster might not weigh much, but you've already run more than usual and even their tiny weight seems to drag you down. A stitch forms in your side, and you can only hope that it doesn't get much worse. You know you have to be close. You lift your gaze to see if you could spot any of the monsters or their tents, and that's when it happens. Your foot snags on something, and you fall hard. Unwilling to let the monster take any more damage, you take the full force of the blow to the forearm and hip on the side opposite the monster.

"Oh, fuck," you hiss in pain.

Somehow, you've found the only rock on the entire hill to land on. You freeze as your body tries to determine just how much pain you're in for. The answer is, as expected, a lot. You drag in a breath through your teeth, and, determined, rise to your feet. Your first few steps are wobbly, but you keep going. The worst part wasn't that you are damaged, it's that your passenger hadn't made any noises when you fell.

The next stretch feels like an eternity, but in reality it's probably less than ten minutes later that you reach the outskirts of the monster's camp.

Somehow, you don't really have a plan for what you are going to do when you actually get here. Hand the monster off to somebody and leave? Ask someone for directions when you were carrying a half dead monster? Your steps falter, and you're reminded about just how much pain you're in.

"Maybe I could... No that won't...."

You're within shouting distance when you remember that the monsters have a king. You'd only met him that one time, but you figured if anybody could help, it was him. You swing wide around the camp, heading for the side nearest to town. You are pretty sure one or two monsters saw you, and you just hope none of them try to stop you. At this point if you stopped running you didn't think you were going to be able to start moving again.

The king's tent isn't much different from all of the others, just somewhat larger. He is huge, after all. You turn towards it as it comes into view, and stumble to a stop outside. Are you supposed to knock? Shout? Do you need to be invited in? What if the monster you are carrying is already - ?

" **H u m a n. T u r n  a r o u n d.** " The voice behind you is low, deep, and grating, and you freeze in terror. None of the monsters you'd met so far had sounded like that.

" **I  s a i d   t** -" The voice is cut short as a furry hand moves the tent fabric aside. Standing in front of you is the monster king, a towering seven plus feet high. You're suddenly not at all determined.

"Oh, hello my dear! What can I - Whimsun?" The king's question becomes an exclamation once he sees the monster in your arms. You swear his eyes dart behind you for a second before returning to you.

"I was... woods... kids hurt... needs your.. help..." You know that barely makes sense, but it's all you manage to gasp out between breaths. It really doesn't help that you can still feel the whatever it is glaring you down from behind.

The king leans down and gently scoops up the monster.

"Follow me," he says. His aura of command really doesn't leave you with any choice, and you force yourself to shadow his footsteps through the camp.

There were a lot of monsters out and about, and it seems like every one of them turns to look as the king passes. The camp is eerily silent behind you, and you can't remember ever being quite this afraid before. You only have a pocket knife after all, and that certainly won't be enough to make your way out of here if things go south.

What the hell have I gotten myself into? you think.

The king disappears into another tent just smaller than his. You slip inside after him, wondering if this was where they store the dead. Or worse, got rid of pesky humans.

Instead you're greeted with the smell of baking. Inside, another goat like monster seems to have just finished serving a pie. A tall skeleton, a fish woman, what could best be described as an anthropomorphic yellow dinosaur, and a small human(?) child sit at the table. All of them look up when the king entered, not yet seeing you.

"King Dreemur! It is so very good to - " The skeleton began, a huge grin on his face. He breaks off and his smile droops at the corners when he catches sight of Whimsun.

"Toriel," the king said, looking at the other goat monster. Toriel, Toriel... where had you heard that name before?

She looks up, and her face sinks in sorrow. You want to comfort her - had this monster been someone they knew?

"Oh, you poor thing..." Toriel said, "Asgore, put her over there, I have what she needs."

Toriel hurries into her bedroom and returns with a bottle. She carefully pours some into Whimsun's mouth... And nothing happens. Your rescue mission had been a failure. You can actually feel tears beginning to form in your eyes at the thought, when suddenly Whimsun sits up.

You knew the monsters had magic, but you can't prevent yourself from gasping anyways. The little monster you'd apparently saved looks immediately at you, and then flies over. You can barely believe your eyes - just a minute ago you'd thought she was dead, but now she was well enough to fly? Having a body made of magic is awfully convenient.

"Thank you!" She chirped, "I.. I was so scared but you made the bad humans go away! Thank you, thank you!"

She flies into you, nuzzling against your tank top. You grin in relief, hugging her back.

"Hey, I'm just happy to have been of assistance. I'm glad you're okay," you say.

The others are beginning to ask questions, demanding to know what happened. You ignore them, settling for being overjoyed at having done some good for once. The tension drains from your body, and you realize you're a good deal more exhausted than originally thought. Whimsun is summoned over by the king, and it takes your best efforts to remain standing.

The room seems to be swaying a bit, now that you think of it. For that matter, your arm feels awfully sticky...

Your knees buckle and you're about to hit the floor when someone catches you. Turning your head, you see the skeleton is beside you now, still looking concerned.

"Human, you are injured!" he says, voice perhaps a bit louder than necessary.

You try to help him as he guides you to a chair, but there isn't much you can do when your legs feel as though they've been replaced with marshmallows. Instead you just accept the assistance, glad to finally be sitting.

Everyone seems to be talking at once - the skeleton is declaring that the great Papyrus is going to take this human to the human city, while the fish woman is demanding to know more from the king, who seems to be trying to placate her. The dinosaur is staring at your arm in horror, as are Toriel and the human kid. A quick glance tells you why. Your fall from earlier had obviously been worse than you'd thought. Your arm is cut open from your elbow nearly all the way to your wrist. The cut was relatively shallow, but your hand and arm are covered in blood. You suppose you should be more surprised, but you're mostly just feeling exhausted as you close your eyes.

A jab to your injured side makes you yelp and turn to your attacker. You see a shorter skeleton in a blue hoodie and, unless you were much mistaken, house slippers. He is looking at you with concern.

"Sorry buddy, but I know enough about humans to know you shouldn't be going to sleep right now," he says.

You really don't care what this skeleton thinks, not when he'd just jabbed the hip you'd so recently landed on, and you open your mouth to say so when the female goat monster approaches you.

"My child, I think you should wash your wound," she says, eyes and voice soft. "At least, that is what I always do for Frisk."

Whimsun hovers nearby, looking afraid for you. Maybe the two of them have a point.

You accept Toriel's offered hand and slump against her as she leads you to the sink. You rinse off your arm, and brace yourself as you pour soap into your good hand. As quickly as possible, you wash out the wound, gritting your teeth against the pain. Toriel has to support your full weight to get you back in your chair as you nearly pass out.

"May I check your wounds, child?" Toriel asks.

"Yeah, sure. I hit my arm and my hip when I fell," you say.

She lifts the hem of your shirt and you hear her gasp. It must be worse than you thought, although you're pretty sure your side hasn't been bleeding.

"Oh, little one..." Toriel murmurs, paws gently checking your ribs and leg. You flinch when she presses gently on your hip, and she moves her hands away. You're pretty sure she goes to talk to Asgore, but you don't really have the energy to check.

Exhausted, you can barely hear the chatter of the monsters around you. Whimsun flies up to you and is making concerned noises, but you can barely register that she's speaking. You're still trying to muster the energy to ask for bandages when suddenly your chest starts to glow.

You startle, afraid. Whimsun is in front of you, apparently concentrating hard. The glow in your chest catches the attention of all of the monsters present, and they turn to look at you both.

"Uh, Whimsun?" You manage to squeak out, terrified. Unknown magic is pulling something out of you that you feel too personal for everyone present to see.

"Please, let me help you," she murmurs, looking like she's about to cry.

"I.. I don't know how," you whisper back, still afraid.

A high pitched, somewhat panicky voice from behind you says, "Y- you have to let your s-soul outside of your body. T-that requires, um, t-trust, s-so you, you need to t-trust Whimsun."

You look at the monster before you. Do you trust her? For that matter, did you really want your soul hanging out outside of your body?

You suppose it's the hopeful, trusting way that Whimsun is looking at you that gives you the courage to accept her help. As you decide to trust her, the glow in your chest becomes brighter until there is a glowing heart shaped object in front of you.

"What the..." Not exactly eloquent, but who could blame you? You're apparently looking at your entire being summed up in a little, cartoony heart. At least it doesn't look evil or something. Your soul looks like a heart made of flames of gold, surrounded by a coat of glass. Somehow, it feels appropriate.

Whimsun smiles at you, and a ring of green butterflies suddenly surrounds your soul. One by one, they fly into it, and with every one your soul glows a little brighter. Your arm itches, and your side feels warmer. When you check, the cut is healing over rapidly. The last of the butterflies leave your arm with what you would swear was a two week old scab, and your side the mottled yellow and green of a nearly healed bruise.

The entire room is silent, and a little tense. For your part, you're too busy gaping at your arm to bother paying attention. Whimsun is looking at you hopefully, as though waiting for your reaction.

You flex your arm, making sure everything works, then rise to your feet. You stretch out your leg, checking that your hip iss really as fully recovered as it seemed. A grin splits your face when you realize that you feel fantastic, and you grab Whimsun for another hug.

"You're incredible, do you know that?" you laugh, giddy. "That should've taken weeks to heal! Oh man, how am I ever gonna thank you?"

Whimsun squeaks her happiness, and you feel some of the tension drain out of the room. The king is the first to speak.

"Whimsun, perhaps you had better tell your family that you are alright?" he says, deep baritone voice cheerful. "They were very concerned about you when you could not be found."

Whimsun agrees and flies out of the tent, leaving you alone with the strange group. The fish woman still doesn't look like she trusts you, and you swear the smaller skeleton is looking at you oddly as well, even though he's smiling. Then again, that seems to be his default expression.

You're suddenly very aware that you're a human alone in the middle of a camp full of monsters. Toriel and the dinosaur at least seem friendly, but the others are a mystery.

Asgore breaks the silence once more. "I realize your recent recovery has probably left you confused, but your tale in front of my tent left several questions unanswered," he chuckles.

You smile just a bit. Kind of hard to stay worried about your safety when the king of all monsters reminds you of the idealistic father figure you'd never had. "Yeah, I suppose so. Mind if I sit down?"

"Please do, my child," Toriel says, and you lower yourself back into your vacated seat. You're tempted to tell her you're a bit old to be called a child at twenty six, but you can't help but want to be coddled by the motherly monster.

The others take a seat as well, and you begin. You gloss over exactly why you were out running - you don't think they need to know about your computer problems - but tell them in detail what had happened with the two teens.

The fish woman nods in approval of your actions, which is probably good, considering the blue spears she was waving around before. You continue with what is left of your story, telling them everything that had happened up until the king had left his tent. You could have sworn the smaller skeleton and the king exchanged several glances throughout the story, the last one occurring when you mention the voice that had spoken to you.

"You are very brave, human!" Papyrus exclaims. "You should be on the Royal Guard!"

"Pap, there is no more royal guard," the other skeleton says.

"Oh. Well, still!" Papyrus says defensively. You can't help smiling at him. He seems nice, you think.

The king is frowning slightly, drumming his fingers on the table. "We will need to call Whimsun back to verify your testimony, I think."

"No need." A sophisticated female voice came from behind the tent opening. A woman enters, or well, a spider. Her body looks almost human, but she has six arms, purple skin, fanged teeth, and five black eyes on her face.

She holds out her arm to your head, and you feel something crawling out of your hair. You try not to shudder as you realize what must've taken up residence there, but you can't help your shriek when you see exactly what kind of spider it is. It's bright orange and yellow, and far, far larger than you would like. The spider woman is looking at you with mild disdain, but you keep your eyes trained on the spider that just left your hair.

"Oh god please tell me that's the only one on me," you whisper.

"Of course, dearie," she responds coldly.

"A - and did it bite me?" Your voice breaks a little in fear.

"No." She looks utterly disgusted with you, and you realize why.

"Oh, oh shoot, no, I'm sorry, that isn't what I mean at all, spiders aren't scary or whatever, it's just that particular type of spider," you say, shivering.

She looks a little less angry, at least. "Why are you afraid of this sweetheart? She's so beautiful too."

"Beautiful maybe, but deadly," you reply. "My uncle's dog died a couple months after I first moved in from a bite from one of those guys. That night he came in limping a bit and by the time his howling woke me up in the middle of the night it was too late. Had to put him down, vet told me their bites are nearly always fatal, even to humans."

"Oh," the woman says, thoughtful. "My apologies, I hadn't considered that. You humans are oh so fragile."

"Well, can you thank her for not biting me?" you say, figuring it's the least you can do. The woman laughs instead.

"Dearie, she would have bitten you if I hadn't asked her not to. But your thanks are appreciated nonetheless," she said. You are getting the distinctive feeling she's enjoying toying with you. At least the smaller skeleton looks nearly as uncomfortable as you are.

"Well, anywho, my dear friend here can back up what the human says."

"Thank you, Muffet," Asgore sighs, obviously relieved.

"Of course, dearie," she says cheerfully, leaving the tent.

An awkward silence once again falls over the tent, until the shorter skeleton - you really wish someone would introduce everyone - says, "Hey, Tori, how about that pie? I'm starving here, just look at me, I'm _all bones_." He emphasizes the joke by winking. Papyrus groans loudly, and everyone else either rolls their eyes or chuckles. Plates are quickly dished up with huge slices of pie, and you dig in. It's heavenly, although you'd never imagined combining cinnamon and butterscotch together. The monsters make small talk as they eat, and you are beginning to feel much more relaxed when a loud noise causes everyone to pause.

You tense as a hand tears the tent flaps aside. Standing there, obviously worked up, is the town sheriff.

"Abe! It's great to see you," you say, nonchalantly waving at him and receiving a glower in return. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh.

He stomps up to you and starts rattling off a list. "Disturbing the peace, threatening innocent kids, general mayhem, bothering our neighbors for no reason, and making the king deal with you? You'd better have a damn good reason for all of this," he warns.

"Innocent is a bit much," the short skeleton drawls. You maybe like him a little more for that.

"What is going on here, _______?" Abraham says. He looks worn out, but then again he has for the last five months. It's wearing him thin, acting as a sort of ambassador and mediator between the monsters and the government. He slumps into a chair, massaging his temples.

You retell your story, this time sticking to the bare bones. You trust Abe, he'll know what to do with this information. The only thing you leave out is the part about falling and being healed. If Abe has one fault, it's sticking to the rules. No matter how grateful he was, no matter how much he realized the necessity of the healing, he would report it. Part of the agreement for the monsters to be able to stay above ground was that they weren't supposed to use magic, even for little things. Getting your friend in trouble seemed a poor method of repayment.

When you finish, Asgore says, "I have just recently heard the same story. I do not think the human has done any wrong."

"God damn it all,” Abe mutters under his breath. The kid at the far end of the tent probably doesn’t hear, but you shoot him a scolding glance anyways. He waves you off but looks slightly guilty.

“Yeah, it’s one heck of a situation. Honestly, I’m surprised they called you. Must’ve known I was going to be sending you a text either way,” you say.

"Probably. Their parents aren't going to like this," Abraham sighs. He looks thoughtful, however, and you could swear it didn't just have to do with the current situation.

"Little," you glance at the strangely silent kid at the table, "Ah, brats, deserve whatever they're going to get for this. You don't deserve the backlash though."

Abe sighs again and stands up. "Well, they ain't getting any less guilty and I ain't getting any younger. Sorry to have interrupted you all, I have to get going now."

The king rises and leaves with the sheriff, and you guess he has some things to talk about with Abe. The tent has gone silent again, everyone's pie finished. Probably your cue to leave, although you aren't looking forward to the trip back.

"Frisk says you're too tired to walk home," the short skeleton says.

You raise an eyebrow. "Well, tell Frisk thank you for their concern, although for all I know you're referring to yourself in third person."

Maybe too much snark, you think, although the skeleton continues to grin lazily. Lazy seems to be the best adjective for him.

"Oh dear, we forgot to introduce ourselves to the human!" Papyrus exclaims. "I, the great Papyrus, must fix this immediately! I am the great Papyrus, this," he indicates the blue fish woman, who gives you a nod, "is Undyne, and this is her girlfriend," he indicates the dinosaur, who waves shyly, "Alphys, this," he points to the small human child, who smiles and waves at you," is Frisk, this," indicating Toriel, "is Toriel, former Queen, and this lazybones," he said, huffing at the shorter skeleton, "is my brother, Sans! We are not very much alike!"

Well, you finally remember why the name Toriel had sounded so familiar. You are mildly embarrassed to have presented yourself injured, dirty, and covered in sweat before both the king and ex-queen of monsters. You also find yourself hoping that whoever had named the skeleton brothers hadn't been allowed to name anything else.

"Well, it's nice to meet you all," you say, "I think you all already know my name though."

"Yes, child," Toriel says, "And if you feel that you must leave we do understand. Thank you so much for bringing Whimsun all the way here."

"No big deal," you say, smiling, "I'm glad I was there to help."

"Yes, us too dear. Usually Sans, Papyrus, Undyne and Muffet keep an eye on everyone, Whimsun must have slipped through somehow..." Toriel trails off, looking worried.

"C'mon Tori, everyone's fine, no need to pull such a long face," Sans says.

"I suppose so..."

Frisk pulls on Sans' sleeve, and once they've captured his attention, proceed to sign to him. You suppose that must be why Sans had been translating for them before.

"Well, Frisk, since you insist," Sans says, shrugging and turning to you with a mischievous grin, "Frisk would like me to inform you that you are the legendary fartmaster."

You snort, and mentally forgive him for jabbing your sore side. You're a sucker for bad comedy.

"Brother that is not at all what Frisk is saying!" Papyrus exclaims, "My apologies for my brother, human, what Frisk really wanted to say was that Sans should take you to your home, as you appear to be exhausted."

"Bro, Frisk knows I'm too lazy for that," Sans says.

"You are also the only one here who can drive drive, Sans," Toriel says gently.

Sans slides out of his seat and stands up, yawning. "Well, I guess I have to, now don't I? C'mon," he says, looking at you.

You stand up, thank Toriel for the food, and leave the tent with Sans. The camp is much louder now that no one is carrying a hurt monster around, and you pass mostly unnoticed. The keys that suddenly appear in Sans' hand unlock a bright red pickup truck, which you climb into. You are a bit reluctant to leave, considering you'd probably never get to see any of them again, but you'd assumed Sans would want you out of his metaphorical hair as soon as possible, so you're surprised when he sits there toying with the keys instead of starting the car immediately.

He smiles at you once he notices you watching him, and starts up the car. As he pulls out of the parking lot, he seems to be deep in thought. Pressuring him probably won't do any good, so you instead mentally run over the events of the afternoon. It isn't until he's already pulling into your driveway that you realize you never actually told him where you live. Before you get a chance to ask, he's already speaking.

"You lied," he says, not looking at you.

"Yup." Two can play this game.

He chuckles, then says, "Alright, fine. I wanted to know why."

"You guys aren't supposed to use magic. Abe told me that a while back. Seemed like it was a pretty shit way to repay a friend, tattling on them to the cops. Even if the cops have good intentions," you add as an afterthought.

"Hmm."

"My turn. Was it you standing behind me when I went to talk to Asgore?" His momentary look of surprise was really all that you need to know.

"Got eyes in the back of your head?" he asks, his grin a little less wide than usual.

"No, just observant. I didn't see you enter the tent, but no one commented on it when you did. That and you looked pretty guilty when the king glared at you during that part of the story."

"We're here. Gonna need help getting to the door?" The offer, you realize, is genuine, even if he is trying to avoid your question.

"No, but thank you." You open the door and are about to get out of the car when he speaks again.

"Oh, and, uh, sorry 'bout poking you, before. Didn't know you'd been hurt there." You hadn't expected that, nor the slight blue tinge on his cheeks, but it does make you smile a bit.

"I didn't think you'd done that on purpose, it's fine," you reply as you finally do exit the car. "And, Sans?'

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for the ride."

The skeleton doesn't reply, and you make your way up to the house. You can hear the car backing down your driveway, and the temptation to look back is greater than you can resist. For a second, you swear Sans is looking at you too before you turn away.

"Ferrin, I'm home," you call out.

"Christ, what the hell took you so long?" Your sister replies from her spot on the couch.

"Some stuff happened, you know how it goes," you say, yawning. It had been a long day, even though a glance at the clock told you it was barely five o'clock.

"And does this stuff have anything to do with why the Sheriff called me an hour ago demanding to know where you were?" Ferrin says sweetly.

Ah, crap. "Maybe," you reply, knowing that wasn't going to be enough. You're spared the interrogation by Ferrin's cellphone. You were really going to have to thank whoever kept these coincidences coming.

"Don't think you're getting out of answering my questions," Ferrin says as she leaves the house.

  
"Yeah, yeah. Have a good time, kiddo," you say, heading into the kitchen. She's only two and a half years younger than you, but old habits die hard.


	2. Adoption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter, not too much going on, just setting things up. 
> 
> Just a quick explanation: Sans is paranoid about things going wrong because this is the longest they've been able to go without a reset. The reason he's so apathetic in game is pretty much implied to be because everything keeps repeating, so that's why he's a bit more active here than you otherwise might expect.

You head upstairs to once again attempt to sort through the mess your computer's made of your novel. The first two books in the series had come easily, but you were having more trouble than you'd like to admit with the third. You sit down heavily in front of your desk, and notice you have an email from the police station.

It's Abe, of course, asking you to come in tomorrow morning. No need to worry, he says, he just needs to take your official statement and get some other unspecified business out of the way. Odd, you can't imagine what else you have to talk about, but you reply telling him you'll be there.

Your story is mostly sorted out, although a quick check shows you that the font changes extend further than first assumed. You might have thought that the sentences have been added to your story, since it madkes more sense without them, but that's impossible. Right?

"'Darren ducked to the side, glad for... _If they can't I will..._  nobody could suspect that he was there to complete a task for Ashlynn... _Make it right..._ ' Okay, weird," you mutter to yourself as you fix the errors.

You go to bed that night tired but with repaired chapters.

 

 

\----------------------------------

 

 

"Hello Damien, is Abe here yet?"

Damien looks up from the files he's sorting through to give you a smile.

"He just got here, you can go on down to his office, he won't mind."

"Thanks," you say as you make your way down the hall. It isn't a very big police station, but then again Grenswood isn't a very big town. That was your main reason for having moved here after things got to be too much back home. You knock on the door and enter. Abe, too, is sitting in the middle of a pile of paperwork.

"Hey, ______ good to see you. Sit down, sit down."

"Thanks for the offer," you say, doing just that. "So, what can I do for you? Just need a recording of my testimony?"

Abe shakes his head. "No, once I told the boys I'd talked to you they were more than willing to tell the truth. Their parents are punishing them with yard work, and I'll fine them and give them a few months of manual labor. All I can really do when the monsters aren't official citizens... But that's not why I called you in." Abe pauses, staring out the window. You're about to prod him for more when he continues.

"Does that camp seem fair to you?"

"Well, I suppose not. Lots of people, not enough space. The whole 'not citizens' thing is awful too."

"We've been having trouble deciding how to deal with that. They aren't so good with human customs, so we can't just let them out into the world without any support even if it were legal, you know." Abe is still staring outside.

"I imagine."

"Yeah... How about the ones you met? Did you like them? They were pretty friendly, right?"

You think you know where this is going.

"Abe..."

"No, I guess that's too much to ask, isn - "

"Abe! Geez, do you enjoy beating around the bush this much? Yes, I'll be a host for the monsters. You could've just asked, my friend," you say.

Abe finally looks away from the window, seemingly unable to decide if you're serious or not.

"So, where do I sign up? Is there a monster adoption form to fill out?" You're grinning at his stunned disbelief. 

"I.. well, I'll be darned, I didn't think you'd say yes. We've been trying to find suitable hosts for the past three months. I didn't want to ask you, since you value your privacy."

"Sure I do, but I don't think the monsters are going to be asking for autographs," you say.

"You're right, I imagine they haven't been reading a lot of human fiction since they came to the surface. Well, anyways, if you're sure, how many rooms will you be willing to offer up?"

It's hours later when you finally leave the police station. You'd ultimately decided that all of your six vacant rooms were open to new residents, that you didn't particularly care who they were, you'd signed off on whatever Abe needed to get done, and you'd rejected the monetary compensation for housing them, instead requesting that the money be directly funneled into the monster's collective bank account. Abe had told you that he would be pushing the paperwork through as quickly as possible before you left. That reminded you that not only was your kitchen mainly stocked with microwavable burritos and half empty soda bottles, but that you were pretty sure you didn't even have beds in the spare rooms. A quick call to the house verifies this, and Ferrin reminds you that the rooms are dusty as well. At least now you have something to do today, you suppose. Your first stop is the gas station, and then you drive out of town. The nearest large city is a ways away, but there's little chance of you being able to find what you need in Grenswood.

You pull into the furniture store parking lot a couple of hours later, then realize you have no idea how many monsters would be staying with you. You pull out your cellphone and call Abe.

He answeres just after the first ring. "Hello? You haven't changed your mind, have you?"

"No, of course not. I just wanted to ask you how many beds you think I'm going to need."

"Six. Uh, how soon would you be able to host these guys, do you think?"

You pause to think. "I suppose as soon as you're ready with the legal stuff."

"Good, good... That all?"

"I think so. Thank you."

 

 

\---------------------------------------

 

 

You walk out of the furniture store much later with everything for six beds except the mattresses themselves. Rush shipping had been paid for and the six beds, desks, nightstands, lamps and chairs, plus two extra large couches for the living room, would be delivered to your house tomorrow. You tried not to look at the bill, even though you knew you had the money to cover it. Your old habits were dying harder than you cared to admit.

The trip to the grocery store was a little more hectic, as you tried to figure out what to buy. You settle on lots of pasta - you could make a pretty mean alfredo, and pasta stores well - along with general food supplies, toiletries and lots of sandwich things. Nobody dislikes sandwiches, right?

You arrive home late, after eleven. Unloading your car takes the better part of the next hour, but you're pleasantly exhausted as you collapse into bed. It's been a while since you had such a clear goal in mind, and you welcome the change.

The next morning you're up early and already working. The spare bedrooms are a nightmare, covered in dust and spiders. Some elbow grease, a vacuum and many dust cloths later, the rooms are once again habitable. Pleased with your work, you head downstairs and get a drink before slumping onto the couch. The bathrooms can be cleaned later.

"Uh, I hate to question your sudden productivity, but is there some reason you're cleaning up? Nobody's coming by, right?" Ferrin asks.

Oh crap.

"So, uh, Ferrin, about that... Remember how Abe called a couple of days ago?"

"Yes," she replies, stretching the word out like a rubber band.

"Well, there was a bit of a problem with the monsters, some humans were causing trouble, I helped to solve it, nothing major. But, ah, yesterday, Abe asked me if we could maybe, you know, host some of them here?"

"No. Fuckin'. Way." Ferrin says, eyes wide. "And you didn't tell me?! Oh my god we're gonna have the coolest roommates ever, I can finally talk to someone other than my boring sibling who sits on their ass all day writing and ignoring me! Wait, you said yes, right? Right?!"

You can't help laughing at her enthusiasm. "Of course I did, why else would I be cleaning?"

Your sister yelps in excitement and hugs you, thrilled. "Oh man I wish I could tell everyone, they would be soo jealous!"

"Please don't make the house into more of a sideshow attraction than it already is," you say, grimacing.

"I know, I know, I'm just so excited! Do you know who it's going to be? Oh man. What if it's the king? Or that super cool fish lady? Or a dragon?" Ferrin is positively hopping up and down in excitement, and you're glad to see it. You really do adore your sister, even if she can be a bit of a pain.

"I don't know about that," you say, amused.

The doorbell breaks through Ferrin's excited chattering, and she answers the door. "Oh, hey Abe!" she chirps.

"Hello Ferrin, is your sibling home?" he replies.

"Yeah I am," you call. "Come in, why don't you?"

"Well, only for a minute," he says, stepping inside. He's carrying a set of manila folders that he hands to you as he sits down.

"And these are?" you ask as Ferrin settles down beside you on the couch.

"Profiles on the monsters you're going to be hosting," Abe says proudly.

Ferrin squeals with excitement and you raise an eyebrow. "That fast? Abe, I'm beginning to think you may have been planning this for longer than just the past few days."

"We need to get them out of there. You're my best option, but I've been trying to line this up with other people for the past few months, yes. Once you okay those specific choices I'm going to finish everything up and they'll move in. Probably take me three days," Abe says. 

"Well, start finishing that once you get back, I don't care who they are, I trust your decisions. And thank you for giving me these, but you're not allowed to leave, you're going to have breakfast with us."

Abe makes a few protests, but ultimately agrees. You put the folders aside, not allowing Ferrin to dig through them as you make french toast and eggs. Your cooking skills are rusty, but you feel successful as you plate everything up.

Breakfast is actually pretty good, and you bid Abe goodbye knowing that at least you'd made sure he had a proper meal.

"You're driving me crazy, let's look at those folders!" Ferrin begs, and so the two of you sit down at the table and spread out the folders. You both take one and open it. Ferrin gasps in surprise, and you aren't sure you don't as well. The monster in the photo staring back at you is wearing a very familiar blue jacket and lazy grin.

"Oh my god no way," your sister whispers, and you shake off your shock to glance over at her. You have a sneaking suspicion that you already know what Abe has done, and you aren't surprised to see that her folder contains a picture of King Asgore. You put the papers in your hands down and flip open the remainder of the folders. Sure enough, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Toriel and Frisk look back at you from their respective photos.

"Oh my god," your sister says again, staring at the folders.

You're inclined to agree with her.

 

 

\-----------------------------

 

 

You really wish you had time to put a new coat of paint on the walls, or to lay down new carpet, but three days wasn't enough time for any of that with a house this large. You settle for even more cleaning, and directing the movers on where to place everything. Your old couches are taken out and replaced, and the rooms look much better as they’re filled with beds and the other furniture. The movers will likely take most of the rest of the day to finish, so you retire to your room and open up the folders again for closer inspection. You assumed that the monsters would be receiving similar profiles of you and your sister.

The king's profile was rather simple. Male, 52, 7'2 not including horns, 7'8 including horns. Friendly and cooperative, king of monsters. Fond of gardening and children. Not much history wise, although whether that was because it was confidential or because he'd refused to share was up to debate. Parents and siblings unmentioned. Previously married to Toriel, one biological child, one adopted, both deceased, no names given. That struck you as rather sad, and you resolve not to ask about it.

Toriel's profile was similar. Female, 45, 6'8, including horns 6'10. Motherly, enjoyed baking, the monster's ex-queen. Obviously there wasn't too much animosity, since the king and queen had agreed to share a room if necessary, although not a bed. Interesting. Same on the lost children of course, but also ditto on the lack of information about parents and/or siblings. Precious little else.

You're beginning to think the monsters have something to hide.

Papyrus, 6'2, 22, male, overly friendly, a bit naive. Younger brother to Sans, no mention of parents. Odd. A warning is included that they are a bit concerned about his ability to recognize dangerous humans and want you to help him learn how to blend in a bit better. Also included is a note to avoid eating his cooking at all costs. Strange, but you file the information away for later.

Sans, 5'4, 26, male, secretive but apparently friendly as well. Parents are again unmentioned. A note informed you that they were relatively sure he returned to the underground on a regular basis. You wonder if that's deliberately unhelpful. There are also warnings about him being very over protective of his brother. That you could understand. What else was an older sibling for?

Undyne, 6'4, 28, female, prone to angry outbursts. Former head of the Royal Guard, interestingly enough. Did not do well in the heat. Both parents alive and well, no siblings. Another note to keep an eye on her and make sure she kept her temper under control. Honestly, had these guys bothered to do any research? You'd known almost everything in these folders before you read them. You sigh and open the next one.

Alphys, 5'4, 29, female, nervous disposition. Mother and father alive, as well as a younger brother. Supposedly the Royal Scientist, although she hadn't demonstrated any of herabilities thus far. In a relationship with Undyne, and they would be sharing both a room and a bed. Nothing else is included, and you can feel your headache building as you open the last folder.

Frisk, 5'1, 12, ???. You frown at the question marks, but that about lines up with the detective abilities you'd seen demonstrated thus far by whoever wrote these reports. Abe certainly hadn’t put these together. The report continued to say that the child was mute, although they could apparently hear well enough. Communicated with American Sign Language. The kid hadn't named any parents or guardians, and no one had stepped forward when they'd sent out the news that they’d been found. For now, the kid was considered a ward of the queen. Well, at least that had answered a few of your questions. You remind yourself to learn some ASL before they actually show up.

The folders had been nearly useless, but at least you know who you'll be living with. You close them and push everything aside, then stand up. With nothing else to do, you might as well get in your run. You change into exercise clothing and duck out the back door after telling Ferrin where you're going.

You start out at a slow jog, building up to a real run. You stick to the perimeter of the house away from the movers, and finish your run without incident. It's only as you pause to breathe for a bit before heading back inside that you notice a blue and black clad figure near the abandoned orchards at the back of your property. You're pretty sure you know who it is, but that doesn't mean he's welcome here without your knowledge. He doesn't even bother to say anything as you approach, settling instead for a nod in your general direction. You lean against the fence beside him and wait for him to speak.

He doesn't.

After what feels like an eternity, you open your mouth, only to be interrupted. "So, you're gonna be our host, huh?" Sans says.

"Mm hmm."

"Did we make such a great impression that you decided to welcome us with open arms?" Unless you were much mistaken, he sounds a little hostile.

"Abe asked me for a favor, I said yes. That's what you do for your friends," you reply.

"Good, I was worried. You know, a lot of humans who pretend to want to help us really just think of us as, to use your term, circus freaks. Ya know, take pity on the poor misfits." You definitely weren't imagining the hostility.

"Look, you don't have to accept my offer. There'll be other humans willing to take you guys in sooner or later. If you think I'm out to show you off though, you're wrong. I'm famous enough as is," you say, frowning.

That seems to capture his attention, and he turns to look at you, even though he still looks skeptical. You can't help but wonder how a skeleton has so many facial expressions.

"Oh really?"

"Yup. Abe didn't include that in my little profile bit?"

"Nope. Height, sex, a few bits of random information we really already knew," Sans says. You get the feeling he’d found the profiles as unsatisfying as you had.

"Good to know they've prepared you adequately," you say, rolling your eyes.

Sans continues to watch you, obviously expecting an explanation. It's not really an explanation that you owe him, nor is it one you particularly want to share. But you suppose it might earn his trust so...

"I don't know how much you know about the human world, but you guys have books, right? Not like history books, or technical books, but books that you just read for entertainment?" He nods. "I wrote this series, well a trilogy really, and it became pretty popular. At first, it was just in this country, but before I knew it the darn things were translated into over fifty different languages. Long story short, people kept heckling me when I went out, showing up at my house for signings, sending me a ton of fan mail, more than I could ever open and reply to. So I moved out here to the middle of nowhere to hide out. I have no desire to use you guys to get more attention, I promise you that."

You're grateful when Sans looks completely unimpressed. You've had enough creepy idol worship to last a lifetime. He stays silent, but it's more of a companionable silence than before. You don't know if you're waiting for him to speak, or just being drawn into his laziness.

"Alright. I can tell you aren't telling a _fibula_. But, let me warn you. If you do anything to hurt my brother, you're gonna **r e g r e t   i t** ," he says.

The eerie voice from before is back, and when you look at him the pinpricks of light that are usually in his eye sockets are absent. You suppress a shiver, but you know he can see your fear. You nod and turn away, ready to leave Sans where he is if he feels the need to be here so badly. You wonder if maybe you've made a mistake in assuming the monsters are well intentioned. Realizing that there's something you've forgotten to say as well, you turn back to see him still watching you. You don't admit even to yourself that you're relieved to see the lights are back where they belong.

"That reminds me. You know my sister lives with me, right?" He looks surprised, but nods. "Good. If any of you so much as lay a finger on her, if you use magic on her, if you even think about threatening her like you've just threatened me, I will _kill you_."

You don't know what expression you're making, but it's enough that you think you see Sans flinch just a bit. You hate to leave the conversation like this, but you really can't think of a way to defuse the situation. You sigh and turn to go, and suddenly Sans is in front of you.

You stagger back, surprised. His signature grin is gone, replaced by something closer to a frown. Not a good look for the skeleton.

"You meant that, didn't you?" he asks.

"Well, yes. My sister means more to me than anything, or anyone, else." And it's true.

Sans stares at you for a minute, and you get the feeling he's trying to evaluate you. Finally, the grin comes back to his face, and he closes his eyes and chuckles.

"I guess we're just two people who really love our siblings, huh?" He extends his hand to you in a truce.

You feel the corners of your lips turn up in a smile as you shake his hand. A farting noise startles you and you flinch again. Sans starts chuckling.

“You know, that’s never not funny.”

You settle for rolling your eyes in silence, but you’re glad to know you’re back on his good side. Something tells you he’s not someone you want mad at you. You're not sure what his intentions are, but for now you think you'll settle for being cautious.

"Alright, that was maybe a little bit funny.” He’s still grinning at you and you try unsuccessfully to suppress a smile of your own. “So, you gonna make some more threats, or can we move on to the part where we become friends?" you ask.

"Friends, huh?" he says, tapping the side of his skull. "Well, after that, I'm not sure I have the _guts_ to say no."

You can't help it; you laugh. Sans looks satisfied with himself. You suppose the uneasy truce is a little bit less tense now.

"Would you like to come inside? The old orchard is a bit creepy," you say, glancing at the gnarled trees. Your uncle had left them to grow on their own for twenty years, and it shows.

"Nah, I've got places to be," Sans says.

"Oh, well, would you like a ride then?"

He winks and turns away. "I know a shortcut." In the time it takes you to blink, he's gone.

"Magic is awfully convenient," you mutter to yourself as you return to your house.

By the end of the night, everything is ready for your guests. You go to sleep secure in the knowledge that you'll have another two days to truly prepare yourself for their arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you guys are enjoying this, even if the going is a bit low paced. Trust me, it'll be picking up soon.
> 
> Anything you'd like to see more of? Comments. Spelling errors, grammatical mistakes? Comments. You can also send me a message on tumblr, if you'd like, at fae_ryn. I'll put up posts there when this updates, when I add side chapters or write other Undertale fics, or you can just pop by and say hi, I do love hearing from people.


	3. New Roommates

In hindsight, you probably should've known that the coincidences couldn't always be in your favor.

"_____ get up, get up, get up!" Ferrin shouts, bursting into your room.

You shoot out of bed, half awake, and say, "Wha's up?"

"Abe just called, the monsters are going to be here in an hour!"

"What?!" You screech, "He never said anything about that! It's been less than twenty four hours, is he has he lost it?"

"I know, I know, but the rooms are all ready, right?"

"I mean, I guess? Oh man," you groan, looking at the clock, "It's eight, if they're going to be here at nine do you think they'll have eaten first? Wait, did I clean the bathrooms well enough?"

"Probably not and yes, the bathrooms are fine. I'm going to get ready!" Ferrin shouts over her shoulder, sprinting across the hall.

You sit down heavily on your bed and rub your eyes. You run through your mental list, checking off everything that's already been done and realize that your house is actually already ready for habitation. Maybe your fortunate coincidences haven't left you behind after all, you think as you stand up to get ready.

An hour later you're still in your kitchen cooking. You'd spent more time than you'd care to admit getting ready, but the food is nearly done. You suppose if you can't make a good first impression, you'd have to settle for a good second impression.

"Ooh, pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon? You must really like these guys," Ferrin comments as she enters the kitchen. As expected, she looks great, and you say so.

"Nah, I just threw this together," she says, as expected. "You, on the other hand, really dressed up. Decided sweatpants and stained shirts aren't quite good enough for meeting royalty?"

"Ha, ha," you say, rolling your eyes but laughing nonetheless. "You're a real riot. Do you see any cars outside?"

"Nope, not yet. I'll keep an eye out."

"Thanks. You ready for this?"

"Well, I mean it is a bit nerve wracking but it's not 'cause they're monsters, you know? More like it's going to be weird living with seven new people when I'm used to basically having the house to myself," Ferrin replies. You feel a bit guilty at that, knowing what she says is true. You aren't the best company since you're generally holed up in your room.

"Oh man," Ferrin whispers. "_____ I think they're here."

"Good, I just finished breakfast," you say, placing the last of the dishes on the table and washing your hands.

Ferrin opens the door and both of you exit the house. The monsters have barely left their vehicles, and Abe is there helping them with their luggage. Surprisingly, there’s a lot less than you’d expected. Each of them seem to have only one or two bags.

"Hello again, human!" Papyrus shouts. "It must be a great honor to be allowed to live under the same roof as I, the great Papyrus! But fret not, your greatness is nearly equal to mine, as you have opened your doors to us!"

You suppose that must be his way of saying thank you.

"Sure thing, Papyrus. I'm more than happy to have you guys here."

His response is cut off as Asgore walks up to you, hand extended. "_____ monster kind will not forget your kindness as the first human to extend us the honor of living with you."

You shake his hand, now a little intimidated. "S-sure thing, King Dreemur. It's, I mean, you're more than welcome, it's an honor."

Luckily, Toriel notices you're quickly becoming too intimidated to speak.

"I think you're scaring them, Asgore. Hello child. Is this your sister?" she asks.

You silently thank her and turn to your sister. "Yes, this is Ferrin, she's my sister, she lives here with me."

"Hello, King Dreemur, Miss Toriel!" she says brightly. Unlike you, she's very good in social situations.

Asgore shakes her hand as well, saying, "Please, just Asgore will do."

At this point, everyone has exited their cars and is clustered nearby. You introduce them to Ferrin, and they introduce themselves in turn.

"Please, come inside!" Ferrin says, leading the way. Thank goodness your sister knows how to handle people.

Asgore and Toriel have to duck to get into the door, and even though they laugh it off you resolve to have the doorways raised.

"So, the house has three levels, this floor is just communal stuff like the kitchen and living room, the floor below us has four bedrooms, and the upper story has two open rooms," you explain. "If you'd like, we can figure that out now, or if you'd prefer I just made breakfast."

"We should eat while it is still hot," Toriel says.

"I-it smells amazing!" Alphys says as everyone files into the dining area. You really wish it was a little less grand, although it does mean the table has enough room to sit everyone. You add get rid of the damn chandelier to your mental list of tasks.

Breakfast is somewhat awkward as everyone tries to be as polite as possible. Ferrin keeps up a steady stream of conversation, but there's little talk otherwise. Abe isn't much more of a conversationalist than you are, and all of the monsters aside from Papyrus seem a bit subdued. They do complement you on your cooking skills, however.

You clean up the table as the rooms are puzzled out. Sans and Frisk take the rooms on the second story, while everyone else settles for the underground rooms. You're glad that they don't seem to mind - maybe the windows to the outside make the difference? Ferrin guides Abe, Papyrus, Toriel, Undyne, Alphys, and Asgore downstairs while you take the other two upstairs.

"Nice place you've got here," Sans remarks.

"That it is, a little creepy with only the two of us here though," you tell him.

“Look at us, here to fix your problems,” he replies, winking.

Frisk signs something to Sans, and he says, "Frisk wants to say thank you for lettin' us live here."

You push open the door closest to the stairs, saying, "Sure thing, kiddo. I'm glad you guys are going to be here."

The first room you show them is the third from the left, between yours and Ferrin's, and painted pale rose, with a large window in the center of the opposite wall. Aside from the things you'd bought, there isn't much else in the room.

Frisk puts down their luggage and smiles, signing to Sans.

"Frisk, you haven't even seen the other room," Sans says, amused. Frisk signs again, this time looking more insistent.

"Alright, alright," he says, laughing. "As you've probably guessed, Frisk wants this room."

Another impatient sign.

"Please," Sans adds, still grinning.

"Sure thing, Frisk. This one can be yours," you say. Frisk claps their hands in glee, then starts inspecting their new room. You leave them to it, leading Sans past your bedroom and into the one furthest to the left. It has two windows and is painted a light blue.

"Nice," Sans says, putting his duffle bag down.

"Yup. I actually figured Frisk would prefer this one," you muse.

"The kid is a strange one," Sans agrees.

Silence falls once more, and you can't find anything to say.

"So, uh, I'm gonna go downstairs, you can meet me there once you're settled in," you say, slowly moving for the door.

"Your room is up here, right?" he asks, ignoring your attempt to escape.

"Oh, sorry, yes, my room is the one next to yours. Ferrin's is the one at the opposite end of the hallway. Nobody lives here except for us two," you reply.

You wait for Sans to reply, but he's fallen silent staring out the window. You're surprised to realize he looks sad.

"Hey, Sans, are you okay?" you ask without thinking.

He startles and looks at you, and you're flustered all over again.

"Oh, sorry, that's a little too personal, I'm gonna, uh, bye," you say, ducking out of the room. Well, so much for not acting like like a weirdo, you think, dejected.

You plod downstairs to find Ferrin and Papyrus talking energetically.

"Yes, the underground has lots of snow! My brother and I lived in Snowdin," Papyrus says.

"Woah, that's amazing, but how did it snow down there?" Ferrin asks.

"You know I am not quite sure! Alphys would know, however!"

You're glad to see Ferrin so animated. Frisk is signing excitedly to Toriel, and Asgore is hovering awkwardly near the dining room entrance. Abe is sitting on the couch, probably trying to convince himself he needs to go back to the police station. You take it in, somewhat more confident than you'd been this morning. It feels... well, strange, but also somehow more home like than the usually silent building had before.

"Yo, Pap, how's your room?"

You try not to jump as Sans' voice comes from behind you. How does he manage to move so silently? you wonder. You would've assumed that bones would clack against each other.

Papyrus and Sans go downstairs and return with Alphys and Undyne a few minutes later. Abe walks up to you and hands you some papers.

"More paperwork?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No, those are just copies of your permits and signatures, basically just legal garbage," Abe replies.

"Do I need to keep these on me, or?"

"No need, everyone who's important already knows you've got them. These guys are allowed pretty much anywhere in state as long as you or your sister are with them. No out of country trips, obviously. If they get into trouble, it's back to the underground, so please do your best to handle anything that comes up. If they’re here, you set the rules - private property so whatever happens is entirely on you. So magic, whatever, all of that’s fine as long as it’s on your property. Outside of here, no magic, no fights, and no leaving your property without escort unless it's to go back to the camp."

"That seems awfully strict," you reply. "They aren't criminals, you know."

Abe nods but says, "I realize that. I didn't get a say in this, the legal team did all of the work. Just between you and me, the government originally said they wanted to restrict everyone to your lands only, even if you did accompany them. We're lucky we got what we did."

"Damn. I'm glad they changed that, at least."

"Yeah. Just... remember, some people aren't as friendly and open minded as you and I. Some people want to hurt these guys. Some… specific people."

"Abe, if you know something I don't I'm gonna need you to tell me what it is," you say, suspicious.

"Look, not here. I didn't say this, this conversation didn't happen, and I never gave you the envelope you'll find in those legal documents," he says. You nod and glance up, but everyone is still carrying on with friendly conversations. Nobody seems to have been paying attention to you and Abe.

"Well, I have to head back to town," Abe says, already walking away from you. "If there are any problems, call me up and I'll see what I can do. You all have a good time, alright?"

After Abe is gone, you feel a bit more guilt over not talking to your guests, but it isn't until Alphys approaches you that you have the nerve to talk to anyone.

"H- hey," she says, Undyne close behind.

"Hello, did you like your room?" you reply.

"Oh, y-yes it's a very n-nice room," Alphys says.

"I'm glad you like it," you say, smiling.

"So, are you some kind of warrior?" Undyne asks.

"Huh?"

"Guard? Knight? In an army?" She presses.

"Uh no, no, I'm just a plain old author," you reply, wondering where this was coming from.

“Then you, you must be very b-brave!” Alphys says.

“No, I mean, not particularly? I, uh, just, you know…” you trail off, unable to find words through your embarrassment.

“Well, either way, you did my job pretty well, so thanks,” Undyne says.

You’re about to stammer back another poorly worded reply when you notice Alphys’ shirt.

“No way,” you say, eyes lighting up. “It’s been forever since I thought about that anime, you must really love it, huh?”

“Yes! Oh my goodness I love Mew Mew Kissy Cutie! You’ve watched it?” Alphys’ stutter disappears instantly, replaced by shining enthusiasm.

“Oh man, it’s been forever but yeah, when I was a kid it was all the rage. Thinking back on it, the kissing and all made it a little inappropriate for kids to watch, but everyone was watching it.”

“WHAT? The kissing is the best part!” Undyne roars.

The three of you spend far longer than you probably should have talking about anime. You watched a lot of the really popular ones as a kid, and you’re relieved to find that those are mainly the ones they’ve watched as well. Alphys informs you that most of the anime they’ve watched comes from an interesting place in the underground where a good deal of human trash passes through. The two of them are thrilled to find out that they now have every anime imaginable at their beck and call via the internet.

The rest of the day goes pretty well as everyone accustoms themselves to the new house. Toriel insists on helping you with dinner, and you gratefully listen to her tell stories about her favorite recipes and random snail facts. You retire to your room for the night satisfied that you've done your job as host.

Flipping through the junk on your desk, you find what you're looking for. The letter is smaller than you'd expected for such a great amount of secrecy. You open it to find a report on a group known as Monster Hunters. Guess these gusy weren't very inventive. That must've been why Abe was so insistent on not being overheard, you think. Wouldn't want to worry everyone for no reason. The group was supposedly small, but consisted of several varieties of disgusting people. Neo Nazis, KKK, and every other kind of bastard you worked hard to avoid. A picture inside shows their badge, a silver shield with the letters MH in black. The reports are mostly minor things, but a few near beatings are described along with the report summary on your interaction with the teens a few days ago. Seemed like that was the worst they'd done so far, luckily. You sigh and put the papers back onto your desk. Knowledge is preparation, but you aren't sure what to do with this information aside from avoiding people with silver badges. You flop into bed and turn out the light before setting your alarm to eight in the morning. Surely no one would be up before then.

The shuffle of papers wakes you up, and you open your eyes to see a somewhat short, dark figure messing with something on your desk. You debate whether or not you should turn on the light or pretend to keep sleeping, and ultimately decide to let Sans do whatever he wants to with the paperwork. A minute later, he seems to find what he's looking for and vanishes from your room. Quite literally. You make a mental note of that and slip back into sleep.

You head downstairs the next morning to find that you're far from the first one there. The skeleton brothers, Frisk, and Toriel are already chatting with Ferrin. They seem to have made their own breakfasts alright though. You pour yourself a cup of coffee and fix it up the way you like it before sitting down. You want to give Sans a lecture on respecting personal items, but decide it can wait until you can get him alone.

This unfortunately doesn't happen for the rest of the day, which you spend giving a guided tour of the backyard and orchards out back. The cherries and almonds were just beginning to bloom, so it was a little less eerie than usual. Afterwards everyone finds their own things to do, and you end up re-watching episodes of Katekyo Hitman Reborn with Alphys and Undyne.

“Hey man, are you sure this is going to get better?” Undyne asks.

“Yeah, I know, it starts slow but you’re going to love all of the fighting later on, I promise.”

“It is sort of funny,” Alphys adds. It seems like she’s a good deal more confident in her element.

“Is this some kind of human entertainment?” Papyrus asks.

You twist around in the couch to see him and his brother looking at the TV from behind you. “Sort of, it’s called anime. Somehow, neither of these two have seen this fantastic classic and I felt obliged to fix that.”

The skeletons join your group on the couch, and it isn’t long before everyone is thoroughly enjoying themselves. Somehow, even though you’d seen it before, it’s better with company.

It isn't until everyone is settling down for bed that you get a chance to catch Sans alone. You knock on his door and hear a lazy "Come in," in response.

"What's up?" he says, reclining on his bed.

"Let me tell you a story. It's short, I promise. So, I'm sleeping nice and cozy in my bed last night, and then all of the sudden I'm not. Now I realize there are a lot of sounds in this old house to wake people up, but what's strange is there's someone in my room. Weird, isn't it? Now, I look around and would you care to guess who woke me up?" You aren't really angry, just mildly irritated, and you let that carry through in your voice.

He at least has the sense to look guilty, you suppose. You cut him off as he starts to speak.

"I already know it was you. Did you really need to see those papers that badly?"

"The sheriff was acting weird," he says.

"Abe isn't the best at subtlety," you agree. "Alright, look. I'm not mad, I just wish you'd asked."

"Would you have given them to me if I did?"

"Yes, actually." You raise an eyebrow at his disbelieving grumble. "I mean it. That's what you do for a friend, you trust them. Abe wasn't trying to hide that information from you, he just didn't want to scare everyone else unnecessarily."

"Why is it you're always demanding apologies?" Sans says.

"You keep fucking up?"

"Ah, right in the heart. Oh wait, I don't have one. You'd be paranoid too in my situation," he says.

"I know. Just, try trusting me a bit more. I'm not here to hurt you guys. I'm actually pretty fond of everyone."

"Fine, fine. Gonna continue with the interrogation or can I get to sleep?"

"You woke me up in the middle of the night, but far be it from me to keep you from your slumber," you say sarcastically. That gets a chuckle from him, and you grin too.

"Good night, Sans."

"'Night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Oh my god you guys are so nice for not pointing out that it's Mew Mew Kissy Cutie and not Kissy Kissy Mew Mew but I'm gonna die of embarrassment, oh god. I fixed it, I am so sorry (and embarrassed).


	4. Cooking Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get a cooking lesson with everybody's favorite spaghetti loving skeleton and a very loud fish lady. This was fun to write, so I hope it's just as fun to read!

You knew it would happen eventually, but you were honestly a bit disappointed that your culinary skills had only lasted this long. It's only been three days since the monsters moved in, but you're running low on dinner ideas already. You turn away from the kitchen, where you'd been staring at the fridge as though it had the answer you were seeking. Toriel, the only other person who knew how to cook as far as you were aware, is back at the camp with Asgore. Despite her status as ex queen, the two of them often worked together to give the monsters a sense of safety and unity. You walk into the dining room, where the skeleton brothers, Frisk, and Ferrin are playing go fish.

"Any ideas for dinner?" you asked, not speaking to anyone in particular.

You jump back in surprise as Papyrus shoots to his feet, cards flying. He looks utterly thrilled as he poses dramatically.

"Human! You may not have been made aware, but you are sharing your home with a master chef! This chef is, in fact, myself!" he announces.

"Oh, uh, no, I didn't know that Papyrus. As your host though, I should probably be the one cooking, you know?" you reply. You don't want to crush his enthusiasm, but it did seem rather unkind to ask the monsters to cook for you. Toriel's help already left you feeling guilty, and she had assured you that cooking was a calming hobby of hers.

"Nonsense! I shall prepare tonight's feast and you shall revel in this culinary delight!"

"Well, I mean, are you sure? I hate to make you do all the work," you say, but the idea of someone else cooking is appealing.

"Absolutely!" Papyrus exclaims, clapping his hands together. "I shall make that which rests at the pinnacle of the culinary arts - spaghetti! I bet Undyne would love to help!"

With that he sprints out of the dining room calling for Undyne. You take a seat at the table and notice that Frisk is making a disgusted looking face at Sans, who shrugs back.

"Shoot, Frisk, I'm sorry, you don't like spaghetti? How about buttered noodles, I'm sure Papyrus won't mind if I steal some of them before he adds the sauce," you say.

Sans chuckles and says, "Frisk doesn't mind spaghetti."

He pauses and glances at the still empty door, then back at you."It's uh, Pap's spaghetti. You might want to watch out, those two have been known to create some pretty inedible stuff."

Frisk signs something, and you mentally scold yourself for not working on your ASL. Sans translates for you, luckily. "And, as Frisk just reminded me, Undyne has burnt her house down three times to date while trying to cook. Pap never got quite that far, but it isn't im _pasta_ ble."

You can feel yourself growing paler, and a glance at Ferrin confirms that she feels the same way.

"You guys couldn't have mentioned that before?" Ferrin asks.

Sans looks mildly uncomfortable. "Well, ya see, I can't bring myself to tell him how bad it is so I just do my best to eat it."

"Oh man," you groan, "I hope I still have a house by the time this is over."

"Hey, it won't be that bad," Sans says reassuringly. "I kept Pap from setting fire to our house before, I can do it again."

You're spared having to answer as Papyrus and Undyne race through the dining room in their way to your kitchen. You get up and follow them, hoping to be able to at least limit the damage done to your house.

“Human! Do you wish to learn how to make spaghetti from not one, but two masters of the culinary arts?!” Papyrus shouts. He's never exactly quiet, but his volume is nearly painful when he's really into what he's doing, apparently.

“Yeah Pap, we're all going to be taking lessons.” You turn and are relieved to see that Sans and the rest have followed you into the room. San winks at you knowingly, and you manage a weak grin back.

“Alright! What's the first thing we need!” Undyne shouts.

“Tomatoes!” Papyrus shouts back.

What follows is probably best described as a train wreck, only louder and with more tomatoes. To begin with, instead of using the perfectly acceptable pasta sauce you'd bought from the store, the two chefs insist on creating their own.

“Can't make sauce without breaking a few tomatoes!” Undyne declares.

The sauce making process, as it turns out, involves the both of them mashing various fruits and vegetables by chucking them against the counter or simply using their hands before scraping the whole mess into a large pot. Ferrin, somehow forgetting that she has to eat this mess later, is following along with more than enough enthusiasm for the both of you. She tries and fails to smash a tomato against the counter, instead somehow managing to angle the throw so that the fruit ricochets off of the counter and onto the floor. Undyne cheers her on anyways before turning to you and Frisk.

“Come on, imagine those tomatoes are your worst enemy! NOW CRUSH YOUR ENEMIES!” Undyne shouts as you hold the poor, defenseless tomato.

Frisk seems to second your pity for the tomatoes, since they start petting theirs. You bite your lip to prevent yourself from laughing.

“DON'T PET YOUR ENEMY!”

You watch in silent horror as Papyrus crushes a banana and adds it to the pot. A second later, once he's turned around to lecture Ferrin on proper tomato throwing techniques, you watch as the banana, now surrounded by a glowing blue aura, emerges from behind the pot. It's quickly dropped into the sink, and as you turn around you swear you catch a glimpse of blue fading from Sans’ hand and eye. He isn't doing much except for making occasional pasta puns, but then again with the five of you cooking there wasn't much space left over.

“Human! You are not enjoying yourself?” Papyrus asked.

“No, I mean, yes, I mean, yes Papyrus, I'm enjoying myself,” you stammer.

“Hey! YOU HAVEN'T CRUSHED YOUR ENEMY YET!” Undyne roars.

You look down at the tomato in your hand. You really did feel a bit of pity for it. "I mean we probably have enough, don't you - "

“NO PITY FOR THE ENEMY!” Undyne, Papyrus, and Ferrin all shout in unity.

“Alright, fine!” you shout, chucking the tomato at the counter as hard as you could. The fruit splatters everywhere, including onto you. The three behind you cheer, and you have to admit that you're enjoying yourself.

As Undyne shouts at the faucet to "HURRY THE FU - I MEAN FRICK - UP!" and Papyrus and Ferrin compare tomato stains, you subtly turn down the heat on the stove. Frisk catches your eye, and you crouch down in an attempt to clean up them a bit.

"How the heck did you manage to get tomato in your hair?" you ask, laughing a bit.

Frisk shrugs, but they're grinning so they must be enjoying themselves. Even if you were pretty sure Toriel wouldn't be thanking you later.

"I think you missed something," Sans says from besides you. When you turn your head to ask what he's talking about, he reaches out and swipes a fingertip - bonetip? - across your cheek.

"T - thank you," you say, turning back to Frisk and hoping he won't see you blush. Something about the skeleton threw you off, and you weren't entirely sure that was a bad thing.

"Sure thing," he replies, and something in his tone tells you that he'd seen.

Undyne slams the pot of water down so hard that half of the water sloshes out onto the floor.

"I'M GONNA NEED SOME PASTA, PAPYRUS, HAVE YOU FOUND IT YET?!" she shouts. You can feel your eardrums ringing.

"I have found the pasta!" Papyrus shouts, balancing precariously on top of the fruit splattered counter. He throws the pasta box to Ferrin, who shouts "HIKE!" and hurdles it towards you. The box hits you square in the chest, and you grab it before it can fall. "Heads up!" you shout, chucking it to Undyne, who catches the box with ease and slams the entire thing into the pot with a brutal crunching sound.

She hands a wooden spoon to Papyrus, who begins to stir the noodles enthusiastically. Frisk tugs on his scarf, then signs up at him.

"Human, you would like to be a part of this culinary masterpiece? Certainly!" he says, lifting Frisk onto the counter and handing them the spoon. When Papyrus is distracted by Sans, Frisk pulls the pieces of the box out as best they can. Ferrin gives them a thumbs up, and you have to stifle more laughter.

 ****  
  


"Today, you all have the honor of eating spaghetti made by the world's finest culinary chefs!" Papyrus declared as everyone sat down for dinner. "And, it would not have been possible without the help of our host, Ferrin, and Frisk! Who are also fantastic chefs!"

"Thank you, thank you," Ferrin says.

You're a little worried as you sit down to eat, but the spaghetti looks edible enough. It even (almost) smells right. You're tempted to push it around on your plate a bit and get something to eat later, but the genuine way that Papyrus is looking at everyone guilts you into actually taking a bite.

"Wow, Paps, you've really outdone yourself," Sans says, and you have to agree. Not only is your kitchen not on fire, but the spaghetti was actually edible. Not fantastic, but edible. Everyone agrees with Sans, and Papyrus lights up even further, bragging about how of course the great Papyrus wouldn't be able to produce anything but the most stellar food.

Fortunately, he's also willing to get down on his knees and scrub the kitchen after dinner, as are Frisk and surprisingly enough, Sans. Undyne was already on the couch, screaming suggestions at the TV. Something about not being such a wimp, probably directed at a certain mafia leader anime character. Frisk is dragged off to what Toriel promises will be a rigorous bathing soon after you begin. Once the mess on the floor and counter is clean, you shoo Papyrus into the living room and start dishes.

"Need some help?"

"Nah, I can handle it myself. Thank you though, Sans," you reply.

"C'mon, you did most of the cooking," he replies, "At least let me dry the dishes."

He grabs a washcloth and joins you, despite your protests. Luckily despite his height he can reach most of the cabinets, but as you hand him a bowl you can't help but wonder how he'll reach to the top shelf where they're kept. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he dries the bowl and looks up at where they belong. A blue glow encases his left hand and eye, and the bowl floats up to where it belongs. You don't realize your mouth is wide open until he turns around and looks at you.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I - "

He chuckles. “You humans are impressed by the smallest magic tricks.”

“There’s no way you can call that small!” you reply.

“My entire body is made of, moves because of, and is sustained by magic, so yes, that’s pretty small.”

“I… Hadn’t thought of it that way,” you admit. “Still, it’s such a strange concept. Magic hasn’t really been anything but superstition for centuries. Although I guess no one really believed in monsters either.”

“Strange how that happened,” he says.

“Yeah. Sorry about the bowl, I should’ve offered to handle that instead.”

“No problem. Thanks for letting my bro wreck your kitchen.”

“You know, I kind of enjoyed wrecking the kitchen,” you admit.

“It was funny to watch,” Sans replies. “He hasn’t asked you yet if he can train with Undyne here, has he?”

 

“No, he hasn’t, why?”

“Nothin’, it’s just their usual routine and I figure he’d love it, s'long you didn’t mind him tearing up the yard a bit.”

“I’ll trade the lawn for the chance to see more magic, sure. Think they’d mind if I watched?”

“Probly not. This the last one?”

You’re surprised to realize that the entire stack of dishes is already washed and put away. You’d been so involved in the conversation that you’d stopped paying attention.

“Yeah, looks like it. Want to join in on the fun in front of the TV?”

He nods and the both of you head over to join the group already on the couch. You use the time in between episodes to ask Papyrus if he’d like to use the backyard for training, which he agrees to enthusiastically. He and Undyne even agree to let you observe, as long as you’re careful to stand out of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Papyrus, oh man.


	5. Slight Miscommunication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a pretty long chapter, I couldn't fit the last part anywhere else that was convenient, I hope no one minds. 
> 
> I suck at writing action, sorry guys! Slight warning for mentions of adult themes, specifically sex is mentioned but that's literally it. You get to watch Undyne and Papyrus train, they fight, the humans learn some more stuff about monsters and souls, a minor miscommunication is made. You also get a bit closer to Frisk by the end of the chapter. Things seem... eerily familiar?

The next morning, you wake up at seven and head downstairs to find Frisk and Sans already at the table.

"What, do I need to start waking up at midnight to beat the two of you out here?" you say, yawning.

Sans laughs and says, "The kiddo and I are always up early, gotta keep each other company."

"I wouldn't have pegged you for much of a morning person Sans."

“What, figured I’d sleep…. like the dead?”

“That was awful,” you groan. He just laughs in response.

Frisk signs something and he says, "Frisk tells me that you should make us waffles."

Frisk is looking at you in anticipation, so of course you say yes. People start coming in as you get the waffles ready, and you smile to yourself. The house is huge, constantly reminding you of how empty it was. You have Ferrin, but even her enthusiasm couldn't fill up this much space. For a while, the loneliness was nice, but you're glad that the house is finally feeling more like a real home.

Papyrus is bouncing up and down in his seat as he eats, obviously thrilled to be able to train. Then again, Papyrus seemed to be thrilled about just about everything. It somehow strikes you as familiar, almost as though you've experienced this already. Now that you thought about it, the spaghetti incident from last night had also felt eerily familiar. It felt like it had happened before, if only you could remember it.

Undyne's voice breaks through your musing. "You ready for some INTENSE training, Papyrus!?"

"Yes, Undyne!" he shouts, shooting to his feet.

His chair hits the floor with a smack, and you're glad to see it doesn't break. You idly wonder if he's broken a lot of furniture in his life as you follow the two outside. Ferrin tags along behind you.

"TRAINEE! ONE HUNDRED PUSH-UPS!" Undyne bellows, and Papyrus drops instantly. Undyne follows suit, both of them shouting out numbers as they go.

"You think they're just going to do this kind of stuff?" Ferrin asks you.

"Well, Sans said something about them tearing up the lawn, so I'm imagining not," you reply.

"Yeah, these're just their warm ups," Sans says. He and Toriel must have left the house a bit after you, and they walk up to join your group.

"Sweet, so we really do get to see some magic? Paps promised he'd show me his special attack," Ferrin says. You notice the nickname, and raise your eyebrow. She rolls her eyes and you snicker in response.

"They often did the same at the camp," Toriel says, "I do not doubt they will be using magic shortly."

"How does magic work, exactly?" you ask.

"It is essentially an expression of the monster's soul, much like our bodies. The ability to manipulate this magic varies from monster to monster, but all of us can use magic," Toriel explains.

"So everybody has a different kind of magic then?" Ferrin asks.

"In a sense, yes. Most monsters specialize in different kinds of magic based on their natural inclinations. These inclinations do tend to run in families, however."

"TWENTY LAPS AROUND THE YARD!" Undyne shouts. The two of them begin sprinting around the yard, apparently racing each other.

"Can't say they aren't enthusiastic," you say.

"I don't think either of them are capable of not being enthusiastic," Sans replies.

"So, wait, if all monsters can use magic, what kind of magic do you use Toriel?" Ferrin asks.

"I use fire magic for the most part, although I am a reasonable healer in a pinch."

"Can you show us? Please?" Ferrin begs.

"As long as your sibling does not mind," Toriel says, looking at you.

"No, of course not!" you say. "I would love to see."

"Please give me a moment." A few seconds later, several balls of flame hover in the air above Toriel.

"Woah," Ferrin says.

"Are those made of real fire?" you ask, curious.

"Yes, they are. I generally use them for cooking, but they are certainly capable of causing harm."

Toriel demonstrates her ability to create even more of the fireballs, and shows the both of you that she can move them however she pleases. She even lets you bring your hands close to one. It's warm, and the heat coming off of it really does feel just like normal fire, although you keep your fingers out of it.

Ferrin turns to Sans and says, "Okay, so Toriel can use fire magic, how about you?"

"I'm too lazy to use magic," Sans replies.

"No, brother, you are simply too lazy to show them!" Papyrus says. The two monsters had just finished their run and come to a halt near your group. Undyne is breathing heavily, but Papyrus appears unaffected. Then again, you suppose he doesn't really have lungs that need oxygen. Even though he could speak. You have so many questions about how the heck the skeleton brothers work, but you're pretty sure it would be rude to ask, so you keep them to yourself.

"You have the same attacks I do, and yours are cooler. You should show them instead," Sans replies.

"Nyeh heh heh! I shall indeed do that!" Papyrus says.

"You ready for the REAL TRAINING?" Undyne shouts.

"I was born ready!" Papyrus replies.

The two of them walk away from your group, ending up near the back of the lawn. They end up about ten yards apart.

"So wait, are they going to have a real fight?" you ask.

"Not really. They both hold back so it's more like playing around," Sans says.

You watch as Undyne summons several blue spears. On her command, they fly at Papyrus, who ducks underneath them. He retaliates with what appears to be a wave of bones that race along the ground towards Undyne. She jumps over them and her spears suddenly switch direction, snapping back towards Papyrus. He seems to know they're coming, and leaps to the side to avoid them. They fly past him and Undyne grabs one as she runs forward, slashing at Papyrus. Her attack hits a wall of bone and she's knocked back. Papyrus grabs one of the bones and meets her next strike before pushing her aside. They exchange blows, Undyne unable to pierce through the summoned bone shields and Papyrus unable to hit her. Many attacks later, as Papyrus simultaneously strikes at Undyne from both sides, she slips and falls. You're afraid for her safety as the bones close in, but Papyrus just taps her gently on the shoulder before all signs of them melt away.

They return to their starting position, and this time Undyne emerges victorious. They continue for another two rounds and tie.

"Alright, last one!" Undyne shouts.

They begin again, Papyrus whirling out of the way as a ring of spears dive for his head. Undyne uses the bones that are coming towards her to launch herself into the air. Her spear nearly connects with Papyrus, who barely dodges the attack. The other spears lodge themselves into his shield as he swings at Undyne, who ducks. As she does so, she swipes at Papyrus' feet and he falls. She stabs downwards at the skeleton, but her spear meets with dirt as he manages to roll out of the way. He regains his feet and swings at Undyne's back. You swear you see him slow down just enough so that Undyne can manage to snatch his arm and throw him to the ground. Papyrus freezes as she aims a spear at his throat, and both stay still for a moment before Undyne offers him a hand up. Your group walks over towards them.

"That was amazing!" Ferrin says.

"It really was," you say.

"Of course a fight between the great Papyrus and the former Leader of the Royal Guard would not fail to astound!" Papyrus exclaims.

"So what part of that was your special attack?" Ferrin asks.

"I did not use it! It is much easier to show this attack to you directly."

"Just a thought, but maybe launching bones at Ferrin isn't such a good idea?" you say.

"Do not worry! I will not allow your sister to come to any harm!" Papyrus says.

"I'll be fine," Ferrin says. "So, Pap, how do we do this?"

"First, we will need to see your soul!"

Papyrus makes a gesture with his hand, and Ferrin's chest glows. The soul that emerges is dark green with gold designs resembling flowers.

Ferrin reaches out and cups her soul in her hands. "I... Wow."

"It suits you," you say.

"So, uh, how does this work, exactly? What the heck is this anyways? I mean I don't think I can use magic, so it can't be made of magic, right?" Ferrin asks.

"Humans souls are different from monster souls, my child. Here, allow me to show you." Toriel's chest glows briefly, and she extends her hand to show the both of you a glowing white heart.

"No offense, but it is supposed to be upside down?" Ferrin asks.

The monsters laugh. "Yeah, all monster souls look like that," Sans says.

"Souls are awfully pretty," you say. Toriel's soul might be a plain white, but it was still beautiful.

"Yes, they are." Toriel's soul disappears back inside of her chest and she continues, "Human souls, interestingly enough, develop over time. They begin as a single, solid color and as the human grows older they change to match them. The base color does not usually change much, but the additions can be any of a variety of colors. We are not quite sure what human souls are made of, to be honest. But you should know that it is very easy for your soul to be harmed when it is not inside of your body. You must be careful with it."

"Dang, Toriel, you would be an amazing teacher," Ferrin says.

"Oh! Thank you, my child." She seems very pleased by her comment.

"So, Papyrus, what are you planning to do with Ferrin's soul exactly?" you ask. You trust that the tall skeleton wouldn't ever hurt anyone, but this is your sister after all.

"I am going..." he pauses dramatically, "To turn it blue!"

Ferrin giggles and holds her soul out. "Alright, if that's all, let 'er rip!"

"But first! A quick explanation! This attack will be blue! Blue attacks do not do any damage unless you move. So, human, you need to stay absolutely still for this to work!" Papyrus says.

"Okay, so just stand here and don't move?"

"Exactly!"

"Alright, ready whenever you are."

Papyrus raises an arm and a blue bone emerges from the ground and slides towards Ferrin. To her credit, she doesn't move an inch, and the bone simply glides through her before fading away. Another hand movement from Papyrus, and Ferrin's soul really does turn blue. It had been hovering before, but her soul now falls into her hand.

"That is so cool!" Ferrin says. Her soul does an experimental hop in her hand.

"That's, you know, reversible, right?" you ask.

"But of course! I can stop it now if you would like."

"Nah, this is too cool to waste the opportunity. Can you do anything else with it since it's like this?" Ferrin asks.

"Well, yes, but I do not think that you would enjoy it," Papyrus says, looking uncomfortable.

"Why not?"

"You remember that Toriel said your soul is essential to you, right?" Undyne says. "Basically, anything anybody does to it is also done to you."

"So like if someone touched this, I'd feel that?"

"That's how it works for monsters, so I guess? Our two races haven't had enough trust for people to experiment with those kinds of things in a long time," Undyne replies.

Ferrin thinks for a second, then holds out her soul to Papyrus. "Well, might as well start somewhere! Papyrus, would you do the honor?"

Papyrus looks embarrassed. There's a faint flush of orange on his cheeks, an odd look on the skeleton.

Undyne cackles and says, "Ferrin, oh my god! That's pretty forward of you!"

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"Uh, remember how monster's bodies are made of magic, and their souls are the source of that magic? Offering to let someone touch your soul is either an expression of a hell of a lot of trust.... or an invitation for sex," Sans says, obviously trying to hold back a laugh himself.

"That wasn't what I - I didn't know - oh my god," Ferrin groans, blushing.

You can't help it - you start laughing along with Undyne, and Sans gives up as well, joining in. Toriel covers her smile with a paw, obviously trying not to embarrass Ferrin.

"Geez you guys are terrible. I'm sorry Pap, I didn't mean it that way," Ferrin says.

"Oh! It is fine, human! I did not think that you knew of the significance of that gesture in monster society. It is just that touching your soul is a very.... intimate gesture. Perhaps it would be better to first experience it with an individual who you are a bit closer to?" Papyrus suggested.

Ferrin looks at you, considering. You're willing to do it, even if it is a bit strange, but you feel like it would mean a lot to the skeleton. Your sister seems to agree with you, because she turns away and holds her soul out to Papyrus once more.

"So uh, this isn't a sexual invitation, this is just me, saying I trust you and I think this whole magic thing is super cool so will you please do this before I embarrass myself further?" Ferrin asks.

Papyrus looks shocked. "I - Human, are you sure?"

"Yes, I am, now, can you do this for the sake of science?"

Papyrus reaches out a finger, but stops just before he touches the little heart.

"What's the hold up?" Ferrin asks.

"I... am afraid of hurting you," Papyrus admits.

Ferrin rolls her eyes. "I am not that delicate, just do it, will you?"

Papyrus still looks uncertain, but he reaches the last couple of inches anyways. Ferrin gasps as his finger connects with her soul, and Papyrus snatches his hand back as though he's been burnt. Ferrin's soul disappears back into her body, and you're relieved to see it back safely.

"Ferrin, are you okay?" you ask, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it was just really weird. It kinda felt like he was touching my arm, but also like he'd reached into my brain. That didn't hurt, did it Pap?"

"No," Papyrus replies. "It did feel.... strange, however."

"Alright, science has been satisfied, now let's never do that again," you say.

"No way! I want to see your soul!" Ferrin objects.

"Some other day kiddo," you reply.

 

"That is probably enough experimenting for one day," Toriel agrees **.**

 

The groups heads back into the house, and you're glad that no one really tried to make you participate in the soul touching experiment. You had felt like your privacy was invaded just letting them see your soul before, not to mention actually having someone in contact with it. Even if you were a little bit curious....

 ****  
  


The rest of the day passes uneventfully, and by nine you're sitting in the living room flipping through bad TV.

"Nothin' on?" Sans asks, sitting down a little ways away from you.

"Nah, news can't find anything horrifying enough to report, all of the good shows are on break, and I've watched every crappy movie on Netflix twice already," you reply. "Why, you have any preferences?"

"Your human shows are all fascinating!" Papyrus exclaims from behind the couch. He sits down beside his brother, and Ferrin follows not far behind. The two of them had apparently gotten over their embarrassment from this morning already.

"Ooh, I know, let's watch a classic!" Ferrin says, snatching the remote as she passes you.

"Whenever you say classic we always end up watching Disney movies," you groan.

"And whenever you say classic, we always end up watching old anime episodes. Besides, maybe they haven't watched those yet!" Ferrin counters, looking at the skeletons for confirmation.

"I will watch whatever you choose, humans! I greatly enjoy your television shows!" Papyrus says.

"M' just along for the ride," Sans says.

As predicted, Ferrin picks Mulan. You find yourself enjoying the movie, but mostly Papyrus' reactions. His enthusiasm for, well, everything, makes the movie much more enjoyable. Alphys and Undyne join your group on the couch before long. Everyone enjoys the movie, and no one objects when Ferrin switches to the sequel as the credits roll. Undyne carries Alphys to bed when she falls asleep on the couch halfway through and everyone else agrees it's time for bed.

You're about to fall asleep yourself when you hear the faint sounds of sobbing from Frisk's room. You open your door and slip into their room.

"Hey kiddo, you awake?" you call softly before remembering that you won't be able to see their response.

You turn the light on and the huddled up lump under the covers quivers. You sit down on the edge of the bed.

"Frisk? It's me, [your name]. Are you alright?"

More muffled sobbing is their only response, and when you stretch out your hand to place it on their back, they flinch away.

"Frisk are you hurt? Should I go get someone?"

One hand stretches out from under the blanket and makes a thumbs down sign.

"Okay, so you aren't hurt then?"

A thumbs up. Thank goodness.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

The hand pauses for a second and then signals a yes.

"Do you want me to go get Toriel for you?"

Frisk points their thumb downwards and moves it up and down.

"Okay, definite no then. What about Sans?"

At the mention of his name, Frisk makes a sound of fear and their arm retreats under the covers. They seem to have curled up even tighter. You wonder why, but decide it's best not to ask. Maybe Sans would know if you asked him later.

"Okay kiddo, if you don't want anybody else in here you're gonna be stuck with me. How about coming out from under those covers?"

The thumb reappears and signals another no. It takes a great deal of coaxing, but you finally get them to agree to leave the safety of their blankets.

Frisk slowly comes out and you can see they're still crying. You hold out your arms and they launch themselves into them, clutching at you tightly.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," you say, rubbing a soothing hand on their back. They keep crying for a long time. You wonder who, or what, could've hurt such a little kid so badly that their nightmares made them this scared. Frisk clutches to you even when they stop crying, and you pick them up as you walk to the light switch and turn it off.

"Frisk, how about I sleep with you tonight, huh? I'll make the bad dreams go away for you," you offer, still holding onto them.

You can feel their nod, so you lay down under the covers with them. Frisk's hands are balled up in your shirt, like they need you as a lifeline. You don't allow yourself to fall asleep until Frisk's breath has evened out into a soft snore.

 ****  


 

 

"Frisk, you've grown so much since I saw you last. And you even cloned yourself," Sans' voice makes you stir, and you open your eyes to see that Frisk is already sitting up in the bed. They frown at Sans and he chuckles back.

Sans looks at you in amusement, probably because you're still half awake. You find yourself wishing that you'd had time to look a bit more presentable. Although to be fair, Sans seems to own only one set of clothes so in comparison you should have the upper hand.

Frisk interrupts your thoughts by tugging on your arm and signing.

"Frisk says thank you for chasing away the nightmares last night," Sans translates. He's looking at you gratefully and you decide you want to see that expression more often. You then tell yourself to stop being ridiculous.

"No worries kid," you reply, ruffling their hair. "How's breakfast sound?"

Frisk nods eagerly and grabs your hand on one of theirs and Sans' in the other before tugging you both downstairs. Apparently whatever had frightened them about Sans last night was gone today.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should add this in here so nobody gets mad at me: While Papyrus and Ferrin will continue to be adorable together, they really are just friends. There will be no Papyrus/OC action going on here. 
> 
> And yes, Paps totally could've beaten Undyne but he's too nice to beat her so he let her win. I highly doubt we saw what he's capable of in any of his battles, he's too nice to go all out against a little tiny child. Even a homicidal murder child. To verify, no Papyrus isn't stronger - I mean Undyne underestimated him and that's how he got his chance, but didn't take it out of consideration. They're just evenly matched.
> 
> (Also if I mess up by using the wrong pronouns for Frisk/the reader, feel free to tell me, I'd hate to leave mistakes there! Same goes for misspellings or grammar errors!)


	6. Humans And Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bones are not soft, as it turns out. You scare your monster friends, you finally get to ask a few of your questions about the monsters, and you stumble upon questions nobody wants to answer. Your questions are piling up, and nobody seems to be willing to answer you.

"Hey, [your name], do we have any more orange juice?" Ferrin calls as you come downstairs.

"Yeah, we should, why?"

"I can't find any, you sure we haven't run out?"

"I mean, it's possible, but I ca- ow!" Your response is cut off as you run face first into something hard and unyielding.

"Human! I am so sorry, I did not see you! Are you alright?" Papyrus asks, concerned.

"Nah, that was my fault. I'm fine, sorry about that Papyrus," you respond. Your nose hurts but it certainly isn't broken.

"You sure? That sounded painful," Sans says. The two of them had apparently been leaving the dining room as you were coming around the corner.

"Humans are designed to withstand a heck of a lot more than that," you respond, sniffling. Stupid allergies must be acting up.

"Are you sure you are alright? Your nose looks rather red," Papyrus says.

"Like I said, no need to worry," you respond, touching your nose gently just to make sure. Your fingers come back with a smear of red on them.

"Oh crap," you say, ducking into the nearest bathroom. A quick glance in the mirror confirms that your nose is, in fact, bleeding.

"Shit," Sans says from behind you.

"Human, you are hurt! Oh my goodness I hurt the human!" Papyrus shouts.

"No, no, Papyrus, I'm fine," you say, but he doesn't seem to hear you over the sound of his own shouting. Meanwhile, Sans is just sitting there staring at you in horror. You're pretty sure this can't possibly get any more embarrassing.

"[Your name]! Are you hurt?" Asgore ducks into the bathroom. Alright, definitely more embarrassing.

"It's really nothing," you protest, hand cupped under your nose. "It's just a nosebleed, it'll go away soon."

Asgore gently pulls your hand away from your nose to inspect it. You can hear a hiss of breath from Sans as your blood drips onto the floor from your hand. Asgore seems mostly unaffected, gently prodding at the bridge of your nose to make sure nothing's broken. He then grabs you a few tissues so that you can stop the blood that's now dripping onto your lips.

"My children would often play rough and tumble games, I seem to recall this happening to humans rather often?" he asks.

"Sort of, yeah. It's not like it's a big deal, I just ran into Papyrus. It isn't his fault, although he seems to think it is."

For that matter, it is no longer only Papyrus screeching in the front room. His voice is definitely the loudest, but it's closely contested by Undyne's. You thought you could hear Toriel and Alphys as well.

"Unless you feel that an ambulance is necessary, you may want to show them that you are alright," Asgore says.

"Yeah, probably. I think I bled on you a bit, sorry about that," you say sheepishly.

"Ah, it is no problem," Asgore says as he looks at his hand. He freezes for an instant at the sight of the red on his fur. His expression twists into what appears to be great sorrow mixed with horror. Just as quickly it's gone, and he turns from you to wash his hands. You want to ask what's wrong, but decide now isn't the best time. You brush past him and Sans, who still seems unsure of what to do, and head into the living room.

As predicted everyone is in the room and yelling. Papyrus has somehow escalated your minor injury into a life threatening wound, while Undyne still seems unclear on what's happening. Ferrin is standing in the doorway, confused. Everyone else is either trying to get a question in edgewise or panicking. Luckily, it seems like nobody's called anyone yet.

You quickly realize that shouting won't do you any good, so you walk up to Papyrus and shake his shoulder as hard as you can. He pauses his shouting for a moment to look at you, and you can see what look like little droplets of orange liquid at the corners of his eye sockets.

"Papyrus, I'm fine! You haven't done anything wrong, this will go away really soon, and there's no need to panic, alright?"

"B - but you are bleeding!" he protests.

"Yeah, that's actually not that uncommon. I cut myself in the kitchen all the time, it's nothing life threatening."

"But this is not that and this is my fault!"

"No, it isn't. I ran into you because I wasn't paying attention, so it's my fault."

"Yeah Paps, they're really a klutz," Ferrin adds. "Clumsy people end up bleeding all the time." You aren't sure if you should thank her or be irritated with her.

"Unless I am much mistaken, this red liquid is meant to stay inside of the human body, is it not?" Papyrus asks. The rest of the monsters seem somewhat confused as well.

"Uh... sort of?" you say. You can certainly think of a few exceptions, and bleeding was kind of the body's way of protecting itself, but you aren't sure how to explain that to a magically animated skeleton.

"Papyrus, there is really no cause for concern. Our host is fine, and they are insisting on taking the blame. Please, do not continue blaming yourself," Asgore says.

"Besides, it's time for training, right Pap?" Sans adds.

"You're right! Come on trainee, we need to catch up on all that time doing nothing!" Undyne shouts. She runs outside, and Papyrus does look more cheerful.

"It may not have been my fault, but I am still sorry that you were hurt, human," he says.

"Thanks, Papyrus. I'm fine though, I promise," you reply, smiling.

The gesture is probably less effective with drying blood on your hand and a wad of tissue pressed to your nose, but Papyrus seems convinced anyways. He goes to join Undyne as everyone settles back down to what they were doing. You wait in the bathroom for your nose to stop bleeding, then wash off the remaining blood. By the time you go back into the dining room, the only ones in there are Alphys, Sans and Asgore. A cup of coffee in hand, you join them at the table.

"Ah! You are feeling better?" Asgore asks.

"Yup, I'm fine now. I feel bad for scaring Papyrus though," you admit.

"I, uh, I think that Papyrus did m-most of the scaring," Alphys says.

"Bleeding really isn't that big a deal," you say. "What, don't you guys get little scuffs and scratches sometimes?"

"Monsters can certainly be hurt, but no, we do not bleed," Asgore responds.

"What? You're joking. I mean Sans, Papyrus, sure, I believe that, but none of the rest of you do either?"

"M-monster bodies are m-made of magic, s-so no, we d-don't bleed," Alphys says.

"That's... weird."

"What's weird is being full of a bunch of mystery liquid," Sans says.

You scoff at that. "Please, we know exactly what blood is made of. I could Google it and find out right now."

"I w-was wondering, d-do you know why it is t-that humans bleed?" Alphys asks.

"I believe it is because they are hurt," Asgore answers for you.

"Sorta. We bleed because it cleans out the wound and then seals it so that nothing gets in. Plus if we're bleeding then whatever hit our body broke a vein so I guess it's a warning to not do that again."

"And what the hell is a vein?" Sans asks.

"Uh. Wow, okay, how do I explain that? I guess a really short, terrible summary based off of my last biology class would be that the veins carry around your 'mystery liquid' and move stuff through our bodies. Our lungs take in air but the veins are there to carry that around our bodies and then bring it back out once it's no longer useful." You're pretty sure you got something wrong, but then again it's been a while.

"Ya know, I think I like being able to explain everything by just saying magic and wiggling my fingers," Sans says.

"That would be a heck of a lot easier, yeah," you reply.

"N-no, it's fascinating! Although I, uh, don't r-really understand what you were talking about," Alphys admits.

"Oh, I know!" You go into the kitchen and return with a straw and a glass of water. "Okay, so the straw is a vein, right? And I have all of this water here, but I need to drink it so that it'll be somewhere it can be useful to me. So I just use the straw to move the water to where I need it!"

"That actually kind of makes sense," Sans admits.

"Okay, while we're on the topic of invasive questions, if you guys don't bleed, does that mean you can't be hurt? Or how does that work?"

"Monsters h-have something c-called hp, it, it gets depleted when we're h-hurt," Alphys says.

"Like a video game? Pretty sweet. Is there like a set amount, or?"

"Nah, no set amounts. Asgore here has something in the hundreds, while Alphys has, what, thirty hp?" Sans says.

"S-something like t-that, yes."

"Wow, who would've figured monsters would be so different from humans? Body wise, of course." you say.

"Ya know, humans have hp too."

"Really? How would I find that number out?"

"Ask a monster really nicely. We can find 'em out pretty easily with magic," Sans says.

"Alright, that's pretty cool. So are things like attack and defense also given numbers?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." Asgore replies. "They do not, however, mean everything in battle. What is of far greater importance is the intent of the action. If you intend to cause harm, you will do more damage. If you do not desire to fight, your defense is lowered."

"Sounds complicated," you say.

"Nah, it's not like any of that's a conscious decision. It just happens," Sans says.

"Do you have any other questions for us, [your name]? We do not mind answering, and it seems as though you have been holding yourself back," Asgore says.

"It just seems kind of rude, I suppose," you admit.

"N-no, not at a-all! We d-dont mind," Alphys says.

"S'not like I have anything better to do," Sans adds.

"If you guys are sure I guess..." You run through your mental list of questions. "So your entire body is made up of magic, right? No exceptions?"

"That is correct," Asgore says.

"So what would happen if I tried to cut off some of your fur, Asgore?"

"Nothing much of interest, I am afraid. I would take some minor damage, the fur you removed would quickly turn into dust and I would replace that which was lost."

"Wow, damage even though it's just fur?"

"Y-yes, but why would you t-try to cut it in the first place?" Alphys asks.

"I mean, I could shave off all of Ferrin's hair without doing a drop of damage to her. She'd kill me for it, but it wouldn't hurt her. It's all dead anyways."

"W-w-what?" Alphys stammers, looking horrified. The other monsters seem to share her horror.

It's actually pretty fun teaching them about human biology, even though you're pretty sure you get some things wrong. You explain how fingernails and hair work, demonstrating by trimming your fingernails.

"I can't even find words for how weird humans are. Mystery liquids, dead things on their heads and fingers," Sans comments as you finish explaining why dead things could grow.

"I'll give you the whole human bodies are pretty weird thing if you explain how the hell a skeleton, who, by the way, has no internal organs, can sit here and eat food with us."

Sans' grin widens and he wiggles his fingers. "Magic."

"Science demands to know how you're possible Sans," you reply. "Or at least, a very puzzled human being."

"Seriously. Magic. The parts of me that you see aren't everything. I just have a made-of-magic, invisible body that handles all of that kind of stuff."

"Blood is definitely more normal than invisible bodies," you say.

"Depends on your definition of normal."

You fall silent for a moment. "Alright fine, I'll give you that one."

"H-humans are rather s-strange," Alphys says.

"Our bodies aren't that unusual, you know. Most animals up here follow the same basic plan."

There's a bit of a pause in the conversation as you run through the questions you want to ask. You realize that now is probably the best time to ask a question that's been on your mind, even if it has nothing to do with monsters.

"Do any of you know anything about Frisk's life before they fell underground?"

"Unfortunately, no, none of us know very much. Frisk refused to tell us and we thought it best not to press them," Asgore says.

"I'm not sure if you were aware of this, but there's an old warning around here that nobody's ever thought to question. Every parent tells their kid and anybody moving into town is warned that if you climb Mt. Ebbot, you don't come back. There're even big warning signs at the base of the mountain telling you not to climb up there. Frisk's old enough to read. So what the hell inspires a kid to climb a mountain like that?" you ask.

There's a lengthy pause before you receive any kind of answer.

"M-maybe Frisk j-j-just ignored t-the signs?" Alphys suggests. Even she doesn't look like she believes it, and the group sits in silence once more.

"We worry about the kid too, ya know," Sans says quietly. "It's just that they won't tell us anything. Nothing. They clam up and won't even sign to us for hours if we bring it up."

"Frisk was... very willing to accept Toriel and I as their parents," Asgore adds. "They have shown no inclination to return to where they were before they fell. In a way, they remind us of the child that we have lost, so it is true that we have not put as much effort into finding their true parents as we should have. Interestingly enough, they even resemble our lost child."

"A human kid resembles a monster child?" you ask.

"Ah, no, my apologies. Long before Frisk ever came into the underground a different human child fell. We adopted the child, and treated them as we did our own, biological son. They.... are no longer with us," Asgore says, not looking at you.

"I'm sorry to hear that," you say quietly. "It must have been very painful for the both of you."

"Yes. Would you perhaps mind a change in subject?"

You and the monsters switch topics awkwardly, discussing a TV show. Asgore excuses himself soon after, claiming that he wanted to help with the training outside. As the door closes, you sit back in your seat and groan.

"Damn it all, Asgore is never going to want to talk to me again."

"Nah, you just accidentally stumbled on a mountain sized can of worms," Sans says.

"I-it's a... touchy subject," Alphys adds. "Particularly i-in front of a h-human."

You pause for a moment as the implications of that statement sink in.

"You mean...?"

"Yeah. Humans killed one of the kids."

"I..... honestly wish I could say I'm surprised. I can't ask him, but would you guys mind telling me what happened?"

"It's a little bit before our time, but yeah. You should probably know."

They tell you the entire tale. How the monsters had taken in a stranded human child and loved it like one of their own. How the human had been treated like family by the king and queen. How the monsters had mourned when the child fell ill and died. How the child prince, not knowing any better, had tried to save his best friend and only sibling by absorbing their soul, and how when he realized he had failed he'd taken their body to the surface in an attempt to return him to his people. How the humans had taken it as an act of violence and stoned the prince. How, instead of fighting back, he'd fled back home, where he'd died in his parent's arms. You don't realize you're crying until they've finished the story.

"That's... horrible," you whisper.

"It... it was a t-trajedy," Alphys agrees.

"I... Damn. I wish I could apologize for my entire species."

"'S fine. Not your fault obviously. Besides, monsters don't exactly got a clean slate either," Sans says.

"Still. That's horrible. I can't believe you guys didn't kill Frisk when they made their way underground, considering all of that."

 **  
** Both of the monsters tense. Sans plays it off better than Alphys, who flinches so badly that some of her tea sloshes onto the table. You grab some napkins and help her clean it up as Papyrus and Undyne come back inside. Alphys and Sans use this as a convenient excuse to ignore their reactions to your statement. You aren't really sure if it was because you'd offended them, or because... You decide not to finish that thought. You liked the monsters. Assuming the best is what friends do for each other - right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asgore gets to play a bit more of a part here, luckily. I know the sinks in his house and Toriel's have fur in them, but that doesn't really make sense considering every part of their body is made of their soul (sorta) so I figured why not have the fur be a part of them. It's fun writing him, honestly. He's such a sweetheart, I love him. Even if he maybe murdered children....
> 
> Also, yes, Sans did deliberately avoid telling you about his... problems. Sans avoids telling you about a lot of his problems. It's kinda his MO.
> 
> It was a lot of fun to write about how confused the monsters would be about humans. Yeah, I know, Alphys (and Sans?) is/are scientist(s) but I can't really imagine either of them dissecting an animal that falls down, so we're gonna assume they don't know much about biology. Especially since it isn't really useful information to either of them, aside from satisfying curiosity. Also, yeah, my knowledge of biology comes from a couple of bio courses taken I think three years ago now. I figured that's about all that anyone knows, so I didn't look anything up. Gives it a bit more authenticity, I think.


	7. Alcohol And Poor Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The goat parents and the kiddo are out of the picture for a few days, and Papyrus and Ferrin leave soon after. Everybody else gets to enjoy things that can't be done with them around. Mostly, you and Sans get closer through the power of alcohol.
> 
> (Yes, you will be drinking, as will everyone else. If you'd like to skip this chapter, you can, and just look in the notes to see a more detailed summary. Alcohol will not be featured often in the story, if at all.)

"So, you guys will be back in a few days then?" you ask.

"Yes, that should be enough time for us to get everything worked out," Asgore replies.

The king and former queen were headed back to the camp to meet with representatives from the government. If everything turned out the way they were hoping, the monsters should be able to build a more permanent shelters than the tents. To accomplish this, they would be staying at the camp for a few days, and Frisk was accompanying them. You'd tried to convince Toriel that you could babysit them, but she'd insisted on not troubling you, no matter how you’d tried to convince her that you didn't mind.

Abe pulls into your driveway a moment later, and they pile into the car. The sunroof is down to accommodate Asgore’s horns, and you try not to laugh as you wave them goodbye before heading back inside.

Papyrus and Ferrin are playing a card game in the living room. You think Sans is supposed to be involved, even though he's fast asleep, since there are a few cards sliding out of his hand onto the floor. You decide to take a spot on the couch and flip through TV stations. You're still trying to decide if you'd rather watch a cop show or a drama when Undyne and Alphys walk in.

"Have the king, Toriel and Frisk left yet?" Undyne asks you.

"Yeah, they just left, why?" you respond.

"Because that means I can FINALLY FUCKING CUSS!" Undyne shouts.

"T-Toriel gets m-mad when anyone swears near F-Frisk," Alphys explains.

"Plus I mean, who the hell can be comfortable cussing around the king?" Undyne says.

"I'd be more comfortable cussing in front of Asgore than Toriel. She's great, but she kind of has a mom feel," you say.

"And! I get to do this!" Undyne says before kissing Alphys passionately.

"Oh god why," Ferrin groans. Papyrus nods in agreement.

"So, uh, what are you guys playing?" you ask, very deliberately not looking at the couple.

"It was supposed to be poker, but someone," Ferrin flicks a glance at the still sleeping Sans, "Fell asleep, so we're playing speed now. Care to join us?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though."

You go back to watching TV, and eventually Alphys and Undyne join you. The couple is a good deal more clingy without anyone there holding them back. It's a bit awkward, but you don't mind that much as long as they aren't making out. Sans seems to agree, since he decides to continue his nap on the couch with you when Ferrin wakes him up by taking his cards back.

A few hours later, Ferrin and Papyrus leave the house to go to join the group already at the camp. Or at least, that's what she claims they're doing. More likely they just want to escape the house. Neither of them are exactly stay at home people, and you'd been encouraging the both of them to do just that. Monsters still weren't really safe wandering around near groups of humans, and since everyone knew that Ferrin was willingly living with them, she wasn't safe either. Luckily she knows this, and you trust her enough to believe she'll stay out of trouble. Doesn't mean you won't worry, but that was unavoidable.

Once they leave, you decide that as long as nobody's here who will scold you, you might as well have a drink. You might not particularly enjoy alcohol, but you've been stuck on the story for weeks now. It didn't help that the publishers were demanding more chapters sooner and have threatened to knock back your deadlines if you didn't start working faster. And you still have no idea what to do. And you were feeling guilty for not returning to the story sooner. And you were still confused by the extra lines. And.... Well,surely alcohol had been invented for situations like this.

"Nobody's gonna mind if I drink, right?" you ask, already on your way to the kitchen.

"I won't if you grab me one too," Sans says from the couch. He's already in the kitchen by the time you get there.

"What, too lazy to walk here?"

"Yup. Now, where's that drink?"

"Hiding up at the top of the pantry. I didn't want Frisk getting into this stuff by accident," you say, pulling the door open. "What would you like?"

"Whatever you've got."

"Does your sudden urge to drink have anything to do with your brother's absence?"

"Pap probably wouldn't stop me, I just feel bad doing it around him. He's wanted me to stop for forever. And of course I need a drink, I've gone _bone dry_ for months now," Sans replies.

"Your joke quality is going downhill," you groan.

"Sorry, guess you could say my _heart_ isn't really into it," Sans says, winking.

You laugh as you grab some of the bottles from the top of the shelf. They're an assorted group of things you'd actually bought, stuff left over from your uncle, and gifts given by neighbors.

"I didn't know you wanted a drink or I would've offered sooner," you tell him.

"Yeah, it reminds me of home. There was a real cozy pub back underground. I spent a lot of time there."

"Grillby's, right?"

"Uh, yeah, actually. How'd you know?"

Where had that information come from? you wonder. You were certain no one had mentioned such a place, but you'd known exactly where Sans was talking about.

"Oh, Papyrus mentioned it a while back," you lie. You aren't even really sure why you're lying, just that you don't want Sans to know.

"Huh. He really hated Grillby's. Probably 'cause I spent so much time there."

"I do seem to remember him mentioning that. So, uh, see anything you want?"

"Yeah, you have soda somewhere, right?"

"Rum and coke?"

"Rum and coke."

You hand him the bottles and a glass with some ice, then grab something for yourself.

"To budding alcoholism," you joke, raising your glass in a toast.

"I'm not an alcoholic," Sans says, pretending to be offended, "Alcoholics need a drink. I, on the other hand, already have one."

He clips the edge of your glass with his anyways, and you laugh at the joke before taking a sip.

"You know what we can't do when they're here that we could do now?" Undyne asks as she enters the kitchen with Alphys. You can tell by the mischievous look on her face that she has some kind of plan.

"What?"

"DRINKING GAMES!" Undyne shouts.

"I mean, there's plenty of alcohol in the house, sure, but I really don't need holes in the walls," you tell her.

"Oh please, I won't throw spears through the walls! That only happened once."

"I'm gonna have to veto this idea," you say.

"Ah, c'mon, it'll be fun," Sans says.

"I d-don't know about t-that," Alphys says.

"What? Are you two just afraid you can't beat us?" Undyne gloats.

"Alright, you're on," you say.

She grins. "That's the spirit!"

Sans snickers at her (probably) unintentional pun. She rolls her eyes at him and heads over to the counter.

"What's the chance of the house escaping intact?" You whisper to Sans as Alphys follows her.

"Nah, Undyne knows her limits," Sans replies.

"I'm not sure Undyne knows what the word limit means."

"Well, you didn't let me finish. As I was saying, she knows that her limit is when she's passed out on the ground," Sans says, chuckling at his own joke.

"That... does not bode well for the house. Or my sanity."

"It'll be fine," Sans replies.

Undyne is apparently very into this, since she's already set up chairs and a table in the middle of the kitchen.

"Alright suckers, sit your asses down!" Undybe shouts. Everyone picks a chair, glasses already in hand.

"So, there a reason we needed to sit in the middle of the kitchen?" you ask.

"Yup, it's game time. Alright, here's how this goes. So I ask a question like, who here has created a killer robot? Everybody points at Al, she has to take three sips of her drink, and whoever she picked takes one sip. If two people picked Al and two picked Sans, she'd take two sips and he'd take two. Simple enough? Good, I'm gonna start. Who here would.... mug Asgore?"

You and Alphys point at Sans, he and Undyne point at you, so both of you take two gulps.

Alphys asks, "W-who here would... uh, e-enjoy Mew Mew Kissy Cutie Season 2?"

All fingers swing towards Undyne, who laughs and drinks.

Sans says, "Alright... Who here would get so drunk they woke up the next day with a really ugly tattoo?"

You and Sans both point at Undyne, while she points at Alphys, who in turn points at you. Everybody takes their penalty and the game continues.

"Who here would..."

You continue like this for a while, the questions veering even further into the bizarre. Alphys, as it turns out, can hold her liquor pretty well. She's a stumbling, happy drunk, fortunately for you. Undyne, on the other hand, gets gradually angrier and more amped up as the night goes along.

"MY TURN! WHO 'ERE WOULD MAKE OUT WITH A SKELETON?" she bellows, almost impossible to understand.

You pick Alphys, but everybody else points to you.

"Hey! Would not...." you trail off, blushing.

“EY! YOU!” Undyne shouts angrily.

“Uh, Undyne?”

She starts demanding to know why the table is looking at her funny, before eventually ending up passed out on the floor after attempting to suplex it. Alphys excuses herself and her girlfriend and retires for the night. You and Sans top off your drinks before moving to the sofa.

"TV?" Sans asks.

"Ya know it," you say.

 

Somewhere along the line, you’d decided to throw your arms around Sans. That’s okay though, you decide, he doesn’t mind. You might, in the morning, but that wasn’t going to stop you now.

"Y'know, I'm beginnin' t'think this was a bad idea," you mumble.

"S'fine! Everything's fine! Isn' life great?" Sans says, slurring.  Of course, you're probably slurring too.

"Sure, why not," you say. You've forgotten what you're agreeing to, but that's fine.

"Pap's gonna be so mad at me," Sans mutters. "I was... good, ya know? For like.... months. Long time. 'N I mess up once, s'okay, right?"

"S'okay," you mumble back. "Yeah, s'okay."

Sans slams his fist down on one of the living room side tables, and you jump. "No! S'not... s'not okay. Nothing's okay. Nothing."

You're really barely conscious at this point, but you make the effort to focus on his face and realize that he's crying. That’s bad. Wait, is that bad? Yeah, probably bad.

"S'all okay," you say.

"S'not. Just gonna reset, s'what it always does."

"Wha're you talking 'bout?"

"Not important," he replies. You scoot closer to the skeleton, pressing more of your body into him. You really like him. In fact, now is definitely the best time to tell him that.

"Hey hey hey hey Sans. Saaaaaans," you say.

"Wha?"

"I liiiiike you. Like, like like. Like like like like you."

"S'good," he replies.

"Noooo, you gotta say you like like like like like me too."

"I like like like like like... s'alot a likes. Wha was I sayin'?"

"You like like like like me."

"Yeah, that.... wait, wha?"

"You like like like me, and I like like like like like you!" Something tells you to shut up, but you tell the voice to shut up. Stupid voice. You only make smart decisions.

"You're drunk."

"Yeeaah, but so're you."

"Not s'drunk s'you."

"We're drunk! You should kiiiiiiiss me."

"You don' really want that."

You aren't sure what was said or done after that. You pass out at about this time, still leaning on Sans.

 ****  


                                                                                                        *sans*

 ****  


He hadn't lied, he isn't nearly as drunk as you were. Considering all the time he’d spent at Grillby's, of course he had a higher than average alcohol tolerance. Still drunk enough to have crazy mood swings and mention secrets you weren't supposed to hear, but not drunk enough to forget everything. Generally he didn't consider that drunk enough to call it an evening, but someone had to keep an eye on you and the others.

The hug had been a pleasant surprise. As far as he's concerned, humans are amazingly soft, even those who were on the thinner side. Of course, Toriel had been soft too, but those aren't memories he lets surface often.

The confession on the other hand, was something even he hadn't expected. He'd faked being a lot more out of it than he had been and it seemed to have worked. At least, you'd passed out and saved him the difficulty of having to answer you. Sans allows his hand to touch your hair softly. You're pressed up against him pretty intimately, but he decides that that's okay with him. He trails his hand down to your shoulders, barely resisting the urge to press down. Human bodies were a constant fascination for him. And of course, even passed out, he still thinks you look attractive. Well, if he was thinking like that, maybe he'd actually had enough to drink.

He shifts a bit in an attempt to go to his own bed - he thinks he can probably make it up the stairs - and realizes there's an easier alternative. A pop and a breathless instant in the void later, you're both on your bed. He makes sure you're laid out more comfortably before standing up to head to his room. As he turns to do so, he pauses and looks back at you. Whether it's the alcohol, your invitation, or something else altogether, he makes a decision and leans down, pressing his teeth against your lips in his best approximation of a kiss.

"Probly shouldn't've done tha'," he mutters to himself as he pops into his room.

Humans and monsters had been in functional relationships, sure. Just not him. But maybe he wouldn't be opposed to trying. That was a question for another time and a less alcohol induced haze, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Government will maybe allow the monsters to set up permanent homes instead of the tents, so the king needs to talk to them about the details. Goat parents leave with Frisk, Undyne curses a lot and makes out with her girlfriend. Ferrin and Papyrus are getting sick of being home constantly, so they head out to the camp as well. You offer drinks, find out that you know the name of Grillby's despite never having heard of it before, and Undyne demands drinking games. Much alcohol later, she passes out. You and Sans end up on the couch, you invade his personal space but he's okay with that. You end up drunkenly confessing to him before passing out, and he kisses you after bringing you to your bedroom. That's pretty much it, I'm sorry that the chapter made you uncomfortable!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, my apologies, I have only been around really drunk people once, and my main goal then was to avoid them. So most everything written about alcohol is my best attempt at writing it coupled with a lot of research. I hope it's somewhat accurate! (Clingy and flirtatious drunk worked best for the story, I hope nobody minds!)
> 
> I'll be using alternate POVs often as the story progresses, I hope that's alright!


	8. Successful Flirting....?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To continue the theme from earlier, this chapter is mostly about you and Sans getting closer. Everybody leaves on a picnic, while you have to stay home and (finally) get some actual work done. Sans comes back to check up on you, and, well, you'll want to read that part. Romance is blooming, my friends. And secrets. Secrets are also coming to light.

Ferrin is pouting, and you aren't sure how much more of this you're willing to listen to.

"This is supposed to be a family picnic!" she says.

"I know, I know, but the publisher called, you know how it goes," you reply.

"It's kinda hard to have a family picnic without all of the family there," Ferrin says.

You sigh, but hold firm. "Trust me, I'd rather be out there with you guys, but I've been slacking off and I'm way behind on these chapters. If I don't get myself in motion, they won't be done by the deadline."

"D-deadlines suck," Alphys agrees, "I u-understand."

"I understand slacking off," Sans adds.

Frisk signs to Ferrin, saying something to the effect of _You know they'd be going with us if they could_.

"Thanks kiddo," you smile down at them. They grin back. Late night sign language cramming was apparently paying off, although you're pretty sure Frisk dumbs it down for you.

The picnic has been on the agenda for the last week, and that's probably why Ferrin is objecting. You had sincerely been planning to go, but last night's call had been an angry one informing you that your deadline has been brought back by a full two weeks, leaving you with only one week to finish up twelve chapters. You could've managed that, if only you knew where the heck they were going.

"Well, alright," Ferrin says, dejected.

A few minutes later, everyone has left and the house feels empty. You head upstairs only to spend the next half hour writing and rewriting the same pages.

Fast forward another four and a half hours, and you've managed to get two chapters hammered out, as well as a general idea of where the next few were going. Deciding you deserve a break, you head downstairs.

You make yourself a snack and set your phone to play some music before you sit down. A catchy, upbeat tune begins to play. You swear you've heard it before, and it somehow reminds you of Muffet? How strange, you think, grabbing your phone. You check, but the music is unnamed and you can't seem to trace it back to anything. The feeling of information missing from your head comes back, and you change to a radio app, something that's hopefully a little less crisis inducing.

You try not to think about the mystery song, instead focusing on how irritated Ferrin will be when she gets home. You'd have to do something to make it up to her, you think. Making her favorite dinner would probably work in your favor.

You pull your phone over once more, and it isn't long before you're in the kitchen preparing pizza dough. Your sister insists that homemade is the only way to eat pizza and you have to agree. You don't realize you're singing along with the music until you try to hit a high note and fail spectacularly. You laugh at yourself a bit before continuing. You aren't a particularly good singer, and Ferrin complains when you sing as you cook. You suppose that is one upside of her not being present. The house does feel... empty without everyone though. You let the mixer do its job as you consider this thought.

You're amazed by how fast your affection for the monsters has formed, if you pause to consider it. Really, was a scarce month of living together considered enough time to develop bonds this strong? You suppose it must be, because you really do love all of them. You can't keep a somewhat sappy smile off of your face as you think about your new family.

You finish this thought as a song you aren't familiar with changes to one you know well.  It's a favorite of yours, even if it is old. You frown to yourself a bit, realizing that your taste in music is a bit outdated to say the least. You turn off the mixer and poke at the dough. It's a little sticky, so you put some more flour in and start it up once more.

You find yourself singing along to the lyrics once more as you stare out the window into your backyard.

The song reaches your favorite lines, the chorus, and you follow along with enthusiasm. Why not, you figure, no one's in the house anyways.

"So make angels in the snow

Love a little while

Live with no regrets, for everything you do,

Because although the lights are on

There is no one home.

And everything you are,

Everything you were,

Everything you've been's

Not everything you'll be.

We really are the stars that burst,

In the universe...."

You probably would have kept singing if a quiet cough from behind you didn't cause you to spin around, cheeks flaring bright red. Sans is leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, cheekbones lightly dusted with blue. It’s been a week since you’d woken up in your bed with a killer headache and no idea how you’d gotten there. You couldn’t for the life of you remember anything past Undyne passing out in your kitchen, but you’re almost positive that Sans knows exactly what happened. He’d been acting almost embarrassed around you ever since. Something tells you you’d made a huge blunder and it’s probably a good thing that you don’t remember what you did.

"Your, uh, sis asked me to stop by and make sure you'd eaten," he says, looking at you. "Didn't know I'd get a concert in the bargain or I would've brought my trom _bone_."

"T-there is no way you've been listening, I would've seen you!" you exclaim.

"You calling me a _lyre_?"

"Oh my god, no more puns," you groan, too embarrassed to laugh.

"Well, they are falling a bit _flat_. Music really isn't my _forte_ ," he says, winking at you.

A reluctant laugh slips out and you turn back to moving the dough into a larger bowl so it can rise.

"Well, you can feel free to tell Ferrin that everything is fine and I have a surprise for her when she gets back," you say over your shoulder.

"Ah c'mon, using me as an errand boy twice in one day? You're working me to the bone here."

You turn to find that Sans has seated himself on the island and appears to have no intention of moving. You cover the bowled dough and place it on top of the stove before sitting next to him. The song is winding up to the chorus once more, and you look over to find Sans grinning at you.

"So, you're an aspiring singer? Might want to work on your vocals a bit," Sans chuckles.

"I'm going to win American Idol," you say, voice and face serious.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry - your voice is fine I was -" Sans backpedals hard, panicking. You double over laughing, and Sans, realizing you were pulling his leg, chuckles along with you.

"You thought... oh my god.... you really thought... I was serious!" you choke out between laughs.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, grinning.

You don't stop laughing until you're crying a little, but it feels great.

"Ohh man, that was priceless," you finally say, leaning back.

"It wasn't that funny," he replies, still grinning. "My jokes are better."

"Yes, yes, I forgot I'm sitting next to the pun master over here."

"That's the pun-ster to you," he replies.

"My bad, forgot you're only the master of really bad jokes," you say, rolling your eyes.

"Everyone loves my jokes, thank you very much. Even Pap, he just hides it really well."

"You know, there may be a grain of truth to that."

He gestures over to the bowl on the counter. "That's gonna take some time, right? Wanna move to the couch? More comfortable."

"We could watch more bad TV," you add, sliding off the counter.

The two of you sit together on the couch. Sans immediately steals the huge blanket from the back of the couch and makes himself a cocoon out of it.

"Hey, I'm freezing too!" you grouch, turning the TV on.

"Then get over here, I'm willing to share."

"And how exactly am I going to do that?"

Sans unfolds part of the blanket and gestures for you to join him. Oh, you think, blushing again.

"I-I'm fine over here, thank you very much," you say, looking at the television without registering what's on the screen.

"Awh, c'mon, if you do that then I'll be _bonely_ ," he says, grinning at his own joke.

"You are terrible," you groan, flicking a glance at the tempting invitation.

"They don't call us monsters for nothin'," he replies with a wink.

You realize that this is a battle you aren't going to win, so you scoot over and lean against him. You're a bit surprised to find it so comfortable. Not only is Sans not as pokey as you'd expected, but he's surprisingly warm as well. Unable to resist, you ask him why.

"Because skeletons don't have soft fleshy bodies that need consistent temperatures, right? True, but Pap and I have a lot of magic, and that's warm, so we are too," he says, and you are reminded once again just how cool magic is.

"I really wish I could use magic," you sigh, and Sans stiffens.

"Its, uh, probably for the best," he replies.

"Why do you say that?"

"Way back when, it was human magicians that sealed up the underground, you know. Not so sure it would be easy for most monsters to trust a real magician."

"Ah, right, sorry," you reply, mentally scolding yourself.

He just chuckles, tension already gone. "Nah, past is in the past, it's probably a good thing that humans have forgotten all that."

"I guess so. That reminds me, what kind of toppings do you like on your pizza?"

"I'll eat anything, it's Pap you want to be careful of. If you make one with just cheese it’ll be fine."

"Anyone else picky about pizza? Frisk maybe?"

"Nah. Frisk even ate one of Tori's snail pies, kid would probably eat garbage if you gave it to 'em."

You both fall into comfortable silence, watching the TV show. Someone who was supposed to be dead had arrived whole and unharmed, and suitable drama ensued. Not really enough to catch your interest. That left you with plenty of time to think about just how much you were hoping that Sans couldn’t feel your heart beating, since it was so much faster than usual. You get up about an hour later to shape the pizzas and heat the oven.

When you return you notice that Sans is stretched out on the couch and snoring slightly. Well, fake snoring at least. He's sprawled out in a way that makes your previous position unavailable. There’s really only one option left to you if you want to be under the blanket, and he’s definitely doing this on purpose. It’s probably his idea of a joke. You decide that the best way to get him back is to play along, and slide yourself next to him. His leg is up against your back, your head resting on the jacket covering his ribcage, and as you settle yourself in he drapes his arm over your back. Well, that definitely turned your plan to embarrass him back on you.

"I knew you weren't asleep," you say, trying to ignore your embarrassment.

"Dunno what you mean," he replies.

You try not to think about just how embarrassing your position is. No, your heart isn't racing, of course not.

Above you, you can hear that Sans' breathing has evened. Apparently this wasn't bothering him in the slightest, despite how close the two of you were. It's good that he's sleeping though, you think. He doesn't get anywhere near enough sleep judging by the dark circles under his eye sockets. Plus, you'd caught him awake at all hours of the night and he almost never slept in. You decide to just enjoy the feeling of being close to him instead of questioning your reaction.

A few minutes later, the front door bangs open loudly, and you nearly jump out of your skin.

"[Your name], we're home!" Ferrin calls. "You'd better be - oooh, what's this?"

"Nothin' much, watching bad TV shows," Sans replies as you jolt into an upright position. Ferrin is grinning in a way that you knew meant trouble, but Papyrus saves you.

"Human! Is that pizza I smell?"

"You didn't!" Ferrin exclaims, running into the kitchen.

"Yes, I did," you say, following her. "They're actually just about to go into the oven."

Ferrin and Papyrus tell you every possible detail about the picnic as you place the pizzas in the oven and start cleaning up.

Ferrin says nothing about your position on the couch earlier all throughout dinner, and doesn't even touch on the topic for the rest of the night. As you climb the stairs to your bedroom, you even dare to hope that she's forgotten. The sight of her sitting impatiently on the edge of your bed tells you just how far-fetched this hope was.

"So," she says smugly.

"So, what?"

"So, you know what!"

"No, I so do not."

"You. Sans. Cuddling. On the couch. While everybody else is out." She's thoroughly enjoying this, you can tell.

"That was nothing! The blanket just wasn't big enough to share."

"Uh, you do remember that we managed to cover Tori, Asgore, Frisk, myself, and Paps without much of a struggle, right?"

Realizing that you've run out of excuses, you simply shrug and start straightening up the piles on your desk.

"Come on! I need details!" she begs.

"Nothing happened!"

"Oh please, you're gonna call that nothing? You were laying on him!"

You groan. "Ferrin, drop it, geez."

"I will, if you tell me what happened!"

"Nothing! Sans came back after you asked him to make sure that I was okay, we were watching TV and we accidentally fell asleep. There aren't any more details to give you."

"Uh, I actually never told Sans to check up on you."

"Very funny."

"I'm serious! I never asked Sans to do anything. We were talking about how you must have been hunched over your computer the entire time we were gone and he suggested that he come back to check on you. I never said anything about it, if I'd wanted to make sure you were okay I would have sent you a text."

"You aren't kidding? He must've lied to me then, because he told me you'd sent him back."

Ferrin's grin tells you exactly what she thinks of this development. "You, my friend, have successfully flirted with a skeleton."

You know you're blushing, but you pretend to be unaffected by her words. "At least I didn't offer to have sex with one."

Now she's the one blushing. "I didn't - you know I had no idea what that meant! It was an accident! Besides, how the heck would you even have sex with a skeleton?"

"I don't know, do you?"

"Oh my god no!"

"Mmm hmmm. Sure thing."

"Shut up! You're being ridiculous."

"And you aren't?"

"Nope. Besides, Papyrus and I are just friends and we're comfortable like that. You, on the other hand, probably wouldn't confess even if Sans did."

"One, there's nothing to confess. Two, Sans is too lazy for any form of relationship. Three, I'm sure the monsters have better things to do than learn about our human courtship methods. They're trying to accustom themselves to living above ground, not date humans."

"I bet he would totally go for it. Skele-smooches all around."

"Okay, Ferrin, look. Compare him to me. He is a skeleton monster, while I am your average everyday human being. We have very few physical traits in common. Even if he was interested in dating a human, who knows what he'd find attractive in humans? I mean, we don't even look that much alike."

"Obviously you were attractive enough for him to let you cuddle with him. That reminds me, what was it like being that close to him? I've hugged Pap, but he has that armor on all the time. Was it uncomfortable? Or cold?"

"Nice job dodging my questions. I'll tell you.... If you tell me what it felt like having Papyrus touch your soul."

"Deal, now start talking."

"Not gonna lie, surprisingly comfortable to sleep on the skeleton. But then again, he wears all that clothing so maybe that's why. He's actually pretty warm, he said it had something to do with magic."

"Huh, interesting. The soul thing was... weird. It really did feel like he'd touched my arm, but I asked him later and I wasn't imagining things, he could read my mind while he was touching my soul. Well, sort of. He could mostly read my emotions, so that was super weird and uncomfortable. Also sort of nice I guess? It's pretty strange, you should try it some time."

"It doesn't sound like anything I'd be interested in, to be honest. Besides, do you really think that any of them would want to read my mind?"

"I bet Sans would love it if you offered him your soul," she says, the innuendo obvious in her voice.

"Oh my god," you groan. "Ferrin, you are ridiculous, drop this please?"

"Fine, but when you end up dating Sans I'm going to be the first one to say I told you so."

"I'm just going to ignore that. Actually, can I ask you a really weird question?"

"Sure, what's up?"

You grab your phone and pull up the playlist that had puzzled you earlier. All of the song names were Error, so you pick a random one, hoping they all follow the same theme. The song that plays isn't the same as before but it has a distinctly upbeat sound and reminds you of Papyrus. Also like earlier, it makes you think that there's something you've forgotten. A half - remembered word lurks at the back of your mind.

"Does this song remind you of anything?" you ask.

Ferrin pauses to consider your question. "Sorry, but no. Why do you ask?"

"Nah, it's nothing. I'm gonna go to bed, good night."

"Okay, weird? ‘Night to you too."

You wait until you hear Ferrin's door close before you get out of bed and connect your phone to your laptop. This isn't a mystery you're going to leave alone. Either you need serious help or there is something going on here. You pull up the music files in question, grab a notepad, and start listening. A little while later, you have what resembles a list.

Bonetrousle - Papyrus

Spider _____ - Muffet

Death by Glamour - ________ (?) Vague thoughts about glitter and pink??

Megalovania - Sans

__________ - Toriel

 ~~Hamburger?~~ ~~Trucks?~~ ~~Burgertruck?~~ ~~That sounds so dumb there is no way it's burgertruck. God I'm an idiot.~~ (???) ______________ - Asgore

_________ - _________ (Maybe not connected to a person, makes me sad but also happy, like I'm about to lose something but that's a good thing?) (????)

Undertale (???)

You also have a pounding headache, but you feel like you've accomplished... something. In reality you suppose you haven't done much more than write down a lot of words without meaning. The ones that confused you the most were Megalovania - it was intense and maybe even angry, not things you associated with Sans - and the song that had lead to you remembering the word Undertale. Of course, you still have no idea what Undertale means, and none of your Google searches had lead to anything of use. For that matter, neither had putting in any of the names of the songs. The closest you'd gotten was a definition of the word megalomaniac - apparently someone obsessed with power - which really only added another layer of confusion over why you would have associated it with Sans of all people.

"So, I've accomplished nothing," you mutter to yourself.

But if that's the case, then why did it feel like that word - Undertale - was the key to unlocking something bigger? But what could Undertale be? It was certainly a name, so maybe an old book? A short story? A video game?

You sigh and shut the notebook. Maybe the answer to the puzzle would present itself after a good night's sleep.

You turn around intending to start doing just that, then notice that your room looks like it's filled with some kind of haze. It's grey and heavy, but it's too cold and scentless to be smoke. You stand up, afraid. This feels like magic, only you can't imagine any of the monsters pulling a trick like this.

"H-hello?" you call, not sure what you're hoping for.

Nothing replies. You start moving towards the door and suddenly see a dark blob appears in front of you. You can hear whispers talking in languages you don't understand, speaking with voices you don't think are human or monster.

"G-get away from me!" you shout, and the blob winks out of existence.

Maybe you're safe after all, you think. That is, until the grey in the room seems to get thicker, choking you. You struggle forward only to fall. You're caught by a soft, yielding substance, and as your vision goes black, you see a white mask of a face looking down at you. It looks unbearably sad.

 ****  
  
  
  
  


You sit straight up in bed, gasping for air. The grey haze, the dark shape and the white mask are all gone, and it only takes you a moment to realize that it's morning already. You decide it must have been a particularly vivid nightmare.

You get out of bed and stretch before heading to your computer. You notice that the notebook from your dream is right where it belongs on your shelf, and laugh at yourself for thinking the dream had been anything but that.

Just to banish any lingering worries, you flip open the notebook to the page from last night. It is, of course, blank. You're about to put the notebook back where it belongs when you notice that the page has indents left over, as though someone pressed down on the page with too much force. Which you tend to do when you're tired. If you angle the paper just right, you can read the word Bonetrousle at the very top of the page.

You sit down heavily on your chair, trying not to panic. The thing from last night was probably not in your room - or at least the haze that had accompanied it was absent. And, if you really think about it, the creature hadn't seemed to have the desire to harm you. It had put you safely to bed without hurting you, and had apparently just taken that paper. It had looked scary but that was really it. You sigh and copy out the words again just to be sure you haven't forgotten anything.

Bonetrousle - Papyrus

Spider _____ - Muffet

Death by Glamour - ______ (?) Vague thoughts about glitter and pink??

Megalovania - Sans

__________ - Toriel

 ~~Hamburger?~~ ~~Trucks?~~ ~~Burgertruck?~~ ~~That still sounds freaking ridiculous, geez. God I'm an idiot.~~ (???) ________ - Asgore

 ****  


Well, you think, at least nothing was lost.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm, I wonder who that could possibly be? What a weirdo, sneaking into your room and stealing things. Also, isn't it great that you absolutely didn't forget a single thing on that list? Wow, how fortunate, huh? (Not so subtle hint that the reader did miss something, in case you hadn't noticed. Two somethings, really.)
> 
> If anyone was curious, the name of the song I'm quoting here is Alienation by Morning Parade. It's an alternative song, sorry if you don't listen to those, but that's pretty much exclusively what I listen to so I don't know of any others. Plus, I really love the chorus and once I played Undertale I couldn't help but think that those lines really apply to the game in general, and it's definitely something Sans needs to hear. "Everything you are, everything you were, everything you've been's not everything you'll be" really makes me think of him and Frisk, because those two are the ones that change the most to adapt to their situation depending on the run. And of course, the message about living with no regrets also applies to him. Poor Sans.... Anyways, I have a lot of Undertale feelings so I'm gonna shut myself up now. I look forward to hearing your opinions!


	9. Grocery Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, Sans, Papyrus, Alphys, and Frisk go on a grocery store trip. What could possibly go wrong?
> 
> (Hint: Pretty much everything.)

"Okay, so, no need to bash your nose against anything, but we're really out of OJ this time. Plus a couple of other things. Like eggs," Ferrin says.

You roll your eyes. "Never gonna get to live one down, huh?"

"It was hilarious, so no. We're also out of coffee."

"Monsters can't survive without coffee," Sans says.

"Brother that is entirely false information," Papyrus says, frowning at Sans.

"Don't worry Papyrus, I know he's making it up. Ferrin, last time you thought we were out of orange juice we actually had two more cartons. Are you sure there's no more?"

"If you don't believe me, get in here and check for yourself."

You groan, but get up anyways. Unfortunately, Ferrin's right and you discover that the kitchen is running low on pretty much every available food item. You'd already made a trip to the grocery store this week, but you suppose that you're in for another.

"Ferrin, you want to come and help me get groceries?"

"No way, I've been invited to go with Asgore to the monster camp. I'm going to help them with the building plans," Ferrin says.

The monsters hadn't found out immediately, since the legal work and agreements took place elsewhere, but government has decided that the monsters will be allowed to build semi permanent residences for the families that would have difficulty moving in with humans, such as Whimsun's. The goal was still to integrate humans and monsters, so those who lived alone would continue attempting to move in with humans, but there was now a tentative plan to have humans move into the camp eventually.

"Great. Who am I going to get to help me then?"

"I, the great Papyrus, will more than happily volunteer my brother and I for this excursion into uncharted territory! We will defend and assist you most valiantly!"

"We will?" Sans asks.

"That's a great idea!" Ferrin says. "You can show them all around town, I'm sure they'd love it!"

You're a little hesitant to agree, but apparently, that doesn't matter. Your protests are ignored and it's quickly decided that Papyrus, Sans, and Alphys will be joining you. Papyrus is evidently too enthusiastic for Sans to refuse him, and Alphys really wants to see if she can find hard copies of various anime for her collection. Pretty much everyone else is going with Asgore back to the camp.

You resign yourself to taking the monsters with you on this field trip and start making the shopping list. Toriel walks in just as you're checking the pantry.

"I am sorry to bother you, but would you mind taking Frisk along with you? I think that they would benefit from a lighter atmosphere. They seem rather... upset as of late."

She looks so sad and helpless that you almost tell her about the nightmares. It had been a while since you'd first discovered Frisk was having them, but you'd ended up comforting them nearly every night since. It was rare to wake up in the morning without the kid having crept into your bed in the middle of the night. It had been a particularly bad one last night, apparently, because the kid hadn't calmed down for hours afterwards. You still hadn't managed to get anything out of them about why they were having them, nor had you asked anyone else. Frisk clearly doesn't want anyone else to know, and you're afraid that if you tell someone else they'll go back to suffering by themselves.

"I'm sure the kid just had too many sweets last night and couldn't sleep. But I'm more than happy to have them tag along with us, sure," you lie. The second part is true, you really do like having Frisk around, but the first was an attempt to comfort Toriel.

"Thank you, my child," she replies.

The group headed to the camp leaves first, and you follow shortly after. You're a little worried about this excursion, not that you mention that. You decide to hope for the best but prepare yourself for the worst.

 ****  
  
  


You've just barely entered the supermarket when the first of many disasters occurs. You and Frisk are the first through the door, followed closely by the monsters. As they entered, a woman near the door let out a shriek loud enough to cause your eardrums to hurt - and that was saying something, considering that Papyrus and Undyne were slowly wearing down your ability to hear anything. She'd then proceeded to fall over in a faint. That had brought everyone's attention to your group. While no one else had screamed, quite a few people had quit their shopping and left as quickly as they could. Whether they'd guessed at what was about to happen or had been frightened by the monsters was up to debate.

You'd known that the monsters would attract attention, of course, but this is ridiculous. More than one person has vacated an aisle entirely upon seeing your friends. People have deliberately gone to opposite sides of the store to avoid them. Others are staring, shopping forgotten entirely. Papyrus, being the most forgiving, friendly person on the face of the planet, seems oblivious, but Alphys looks more like she wants to melt into the floor than ever. Frisk hasn't seemed to notice and Sans... well, it's difficult to tell, but you're pretty sure he's seething under his ever present grin.

The atmosphere in the store is taking you nervous and tense. When a car alarm sounds outside, you jump. The alarm stops quickly.

The aisles are a bit too narrow for monsters, as Alphys soon proves. Despite her best efforts, her tail sways slightly from side to side as she walks. She is following you past a cookie display when the inevitable happens and her tail causes the whole thing to crash to the floor.

She turns bright red and is stammering so badly as she tries to right the display that her apology is nearly impossible to understand. Normally, a clerk would have approached to help, but instead you and Frisk are the only ones helping her fix the mess. You've never felt quite this threatened before. You generally think of the town as a quiet, friendly place, but now it feels like everyone in the store is a potential enemy. No one has actually said or done anything violent though, so you're hopeful that it will stay that way.

 

You and Alphys grab the last of the items on your list while the others leave to get pasta. You're passing a group of men standing near the produce when your shoulder hits one of them.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you say.

"You should be," one of them responds darkly. The others are glaring at you and Alphys, who is doing her best to be invisible. The disgust and hatred is clear on their faces.

You keep going, heart racing. You hadn't wanted to consider the possibility, but it's time for drastic measures. The two of you quickly find the others.

"Human!" Papyrus shouts, "There is an entire aisle dedicated to pasta!"

"Yeah, Papyrus. You want to pick some more up? You could even branch into something other than spaghetti," you reply. His volume was very out of place in the nearly silent store.

While Papyrus exclaims excitedly over all of the options, you move to stand next to Sans as subtly as possible. You whisper, "That teleportation ability of yours - can you take anyone with you?"

"Yeah. I know what you're thinking though, not gonna work."

"Shit. Alright, is there any way to get Papyrus outside and into the car quickly?"

Sans nods. "Yeah. Think we're in danger?"

"Not sure. Just try to get everyone outside."

"What about you?" he asks, looking at you.

Under normal circumstances his concern probably would have made you embarrassed, but all you feel is incredibly nervous. You settle on a small, forced smile.

"If things really head south, here." You try to hand Sans the keys, but he refuses to take them from you.

"Alphys can drive. I'm not going to leave you here," Sans murmurs.

"Alphys isn't a fighter, and neither is Frisk. Papyrus won't fight. You've got to get them out of here. This isn't up to debate. If something goes downhill, I need you to take those three and run. Worst case scenario is five dead bodies, not one."

You put the keys into his pocket yourself, and walk up to Papyrus so that Sans can't protest any further. The worst case scenario you'd mentioned was unlikely, but it did cover the gravity of the situation. A minute or so later your cart is loaded with more pasta than you'd thought possible as you head to the check out.

"Hey, Pap, we shouldn't clog up the line," Sans says. "Wanna get the car ready?"

"Yes, of course! We will await you outside, human!" Papyrus says cheerfully. "In fact, Alphys, you should also join us! We can all prepare the vehicle!"

Maybe Papyrus isn't as oblivious as you'd thought, you realize as he scoops up Frisk and puts them on his shoulders. You're glad to see them outside safely, but you really wish you weren't alone. The store is full of people whispering and looking at you strangely as you walk up to the counter to pay. You step into the empty check out, and the clerk glares at you.

"How nice of you to greet me," you say coldly. 

 

She doesn't reply, bagging your groceries silently. You hand her your card and leave without another word.

Outside you discover that the alarm from earlier had been your car. It looked like someone had hit it with a sledgehammer and a good deal of spray paint. Your friends are standing next to it.

"Well, that's not good," you say as you approach, trying for an upbeat tone.

"Tires slashed, windshield gone, and they got under the hood. No idea what they took, but it won't start," Sans says.

"That's fine, I'll just call Ferrin," you say. You try not to let your concern seep into your voice. You notice Sans and Alphys both staring behind you, and turn to see the five men from earlier approaching. Oh, shit.

"Don't do anything," you tell the monsters behind you. "Just let me handle this."

As you'd feared, the men swagger up to your group and stop only a few feet from you. The leader is unfamiliar to you, but obviously in the habit of drinking to excess. You just hope it took him a few drinks to get up the courage to do this.

"So, you think you can just waltz into our town with these freaks, huh?" he says aggressively. The men behind him nod.

"Look, we just want to get into our car and leave, alright?" you say.

"Oh no, see, we can't let you do that. We let you get away with this once, you're gonna think we'll let you do it again. And we don't want our town polluted by those things," he says, taking a step forward. It takes all you've got not to take one back.

"I could call Abe right now and we can all find out exactly what he thinks of this. Threats, damage to property, I don't think he'd like that." You don't have anything else to threaten them with aside from the rule of the law, and the sneer on his face tells you that isn't going to work.

"Abe's out dealing with a spot of trouble on the other side of town. I don't think he'll be answering his phone. 'Sides, you really think we'd let you call him?" He's grinning and confident. However, the men behind him look a good deal less so. Maybe, just maybe....

"Well, it's four on five, so you've got the advantage of numbers, but do you really think you can take on the strongest members of the monster's royal guard?" you ask. You're bluffing, of course, but they don't know that.

Their leader chuckles menacingly and takes another step forward. You move back involuntarily, and he laughs again. You can feel some part of yourself get angry beyond your fear. _Who the hell is he, to be laughing at me?_

"Ya know, if I believed that I might be scared. But guess what? If your disgusting friends here do anything, the government'll wipe their asses off the face of the planet! So go the fuck ahead! Beat our asses, we still win!" he gloats, sneering. He turns his head and two of his men nod back at him confidently. The other two, however, exchange an uncertain glance.

You realize three things in the span of the time it has taken him to speak. One, he didn't want any of you out of town, he wanted you dead. Two, you had to handle this on your own. The monsters behind you were an empty threat if they didn't want to kill everyone they loved. Three, you were going to have to play dirty to win. _Good._

You aren’t sure where it comes from, but you’re suddenly feeling confident. "True enough. But, ya know, I'm kinda thinkin' I'm not gonna need their help. You look like a fucking bitch, what's the worst you can do? Pull my hair? We gonna have a cat fight?"

Your words do exactly what you’d needed them to - the sneer disappears, replaced by a snarl.

"What, you think you can take on five people? You fucking insane or something?"

When he looks back at his friends for approval, you take the opening. You charge forward, and as he begins to turn back to you, slam your elbow into the side of his face. It's a good strike, stunning him. The instant he's down, you turn back to the other four. The two who'd looked nervous earlier now looked like they were about to be sick. They glance at each other and bolt, running in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, _fortunately,_ the other two have found their balls already.

They both run forward together, and you dodge to the side. You shove one of them into a line of grocery carts, and he falls.

The other takes advantage of your distraction, and slams you into the side of a car, winding you. As you try to get your breath back, he brings a knife out of his pocket and drives it, point first, into your gut.

Or well, that's what he tried to do. In reality, the knife hits your stomach dead center and then was somehow deflected. You don't even feel the pain as you try to escape him. You get an arm free as he is distracted by something near his foot.

"Frisk!" You hear the monsters behind you shout.

You aren't sure how, but the man who'd stabbed you had kicked Frisk into the side of a nearby car. And that's really all that you need to know.

As his face turns back to you, you slam your fist into it with as much force as you can muster. He reels back, knife falling and hands coming up to his nose. Your gaze flicks to the knife longingly, but you’ve got a job to complete. You move forward and lace your hands behind his head. As he moves his hands to look at you in baffled, angry pain, you bring your hands down as hard as you can, driving his face into your knee. He goes down like a sack of bricks, and you kick him in the gut.

"Suck it, you fucker."

You hear a shout from Sans a second before hands around your throat force you into the side of the car yet again. It's the man who'd fallen earlier. He keeps you pinned to the car by pressing a blade to your throat.

"If any of you touch me, they're fucking dead!" he shouts. The monsters behind him are frozen. Alphys appears to have been restraining Sans, while Papyrus had just scooped up Frisk. They're all staring at the two of you in horror. You can see the familiar glow in Sans' eye, and it gives you an idea.

"Sans!" you shout desperately, "Don't!"

Luckily for you, this man isn't the brightest. He turns almost completely to stare behind him in fear, and you drive your elbow into his temple. He falls to the ground, and the knife clatters to the asphalt beside him. Maybe _you should pick it up._ You go to do so before you think to ask yourself why you want the knife so badly. After a few more moments of debate, you turn away. Somewhere in your mind, something that isn't quite you feels disappointed and slips away.

You rub your sore throat and approach your friends. Sans' eye is glowing bright blue, and you wonder if he's using magic. He certainly looks angry enough to.

"Hey guys," you croak. "So, ready to head home?"

Alphys raises a shaking finger and points to the left, just out of sight. You turn and see that there's a huge group watching you. A few of them are approaching now, and they look furious.

"What the fuck was that?" a man shouts at you.

"They started it!" you tell him, indignant. Apparently you were back in kindergarten.

"Well why the fuck did you bring these things with you anyways? It's bad enough you're letting them live with you, but why the hell are you forcing their presence on the rest of us?" another shouts.

 **  
** You can see people in the group behind them nodding, and you're terrified. Whatever had possessed you earlier was gone entirely, and you were left feeling dazed. You'd done all you could do, and half of that had been instinct and sheer luck. Trying to fight a single person, let alone a mob, was beyond you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering about the timeline, the story skips over a lot of less important days, so it's been about a month and a half since the monsters came to live with you. That means they've been living above ground for six and a half months.
> 
> Wow, I wonder why you'd want a knife? Isn't that weird?
> 
> Interestingly enough, it seems that despite their concerns to the contrary, humans are the only ones acting violent. To be honest, I can't imagine any of the monsters acting like this. And yes, if you'd gotten really hurt they would've stepped in, it's just that if they start fighting you have to realize that they'd be sealing everyone's death warrant. If humans can prove that monsters are too violent to be able to live among human civilization, they'd all be killed. Bones aren't going to be a great shield against nuclear bombs.
> 
> While I do agree that Papyrus is a dork who's too nice for his own good, he's not an idiot and I don't think he'd be oblivious to the situation. He's an adult, he knows what's up.


	10. Feeding The Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things got a bit dicey at the grocery store, ending with the reader(?) having just miraculously fought off three guys. Unfortunately, some people aren't so happy about your success, and you're feeling chilled... to the bone.

The aggressive looks on their faces tells you that you're in trouble. The man who spoke first is still edging forward.

 

"And just what do you think you're doing, George?" The voice that breaks the tension belongs to a short, elderly woman you know well. Mrs. Wilson is the rather crotchety owner of a bakery you've been to many times and a longtime town resident.

"I was... telling them to leave," George says lamely.

"No, boy, don't you lie to me. You were being a brat. Alexander and the rest were in the wrong here and you know it. Now, get!" she says, and miracle of all miracles, he backs off. The rest of the crowd begins to disperse as well.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wilson," you say.

"Child, you're more than welcome, but you wouldn't have needed my help. George is all talk. What happened here?"

You explain, and her expression turns sour.

"These boys are nothing but trouble, and they haven't ever been anything but." She walks past you up to Papyrus. "Dear, would you mind putting the child down? I want to check their knee."

"Of course," Papyrus says, much quieter than usual.

You look at the men you - Had that really been you? You can barely remember any of it - had knocked to the ground. None of them shows any inclination to get up, and you can't help but wonder why. Surely you hadn't hit any of them that hard.

You're glad to see Mrs. Wilson is treating the monsters like they deserve to be treated, like the people that they are. As she busies herself making sure Frisk is alright, a few people approach. You eye them warily, but they don't seem threatening. Quite the contrary, they look apologetic.

"I'm sorry we couldn't help you," one of the men says. "We just got here and heard the story. Did they do that to your car?"

"Yeah. Probably wanted to trap us here," you reply.

"Is anyone hurt?" a woman says, looking with concern at the monsters.

"Nah, we're fine, I don't know about [your name] though," Sans says, looking at you in concern.

"Oh yeah," you say, remembering. You check your side, and discover that the knife had somehow only just barely scratched your skin, so although the cut was pretty long, it was too shallow to be of note. The one on your neck seems to be the same.

"Nah, I'm definitely fine," you say, and Sans looks at you with concern and something you can't quite puzzle out.

"Well, on behalf of those of us who aren't assholes, I'm sorry you guys had to deal with that," another woman adds.

"It is perfectly alright!" Papyrus declares.

"No, it isn't," Mrs. Wilson says. "You all seem like nice kids. No one should have tried to hurt you."

The other humans mumble in agreement. The woman who'd apologized checks your car and confirms that it's not going to be going anywhere. She offers to give you all a ride home, and is even willing to wait until after the police arrive. Quite a few people had called them, apparently.

Abe and Damien pull up not five minutes later. You've never seen either of them this angry before, and you're just glad it's focused on someone else. They quickly handcuff the men who'd attacked you, all of whom are still passed out. The suspects are dragged into the car before Abe turns to you.

"Give me the short version," he sighs.

"Really long story short, I was forced into a fight with them. They didn't like the fact that the monsters were in town, and they decided they had to do something about it. No one was seriously injured," you explain.

Abe, who you've never known to curse, shouts, "Jesus H fucking Christ! Things were finally going well!"

"Hey, it's fine, nobody got hurt, right?" you ask.

"That's better than we had the right to hope for, yes. Do you know what these," he shoots a guilty glance at Frisk, "Idiots did across town to distract us? They set fire to one of the big houses down on Gilian Ave. I can't believe I wasn't here to help you, this must have been terrifying for all of you."

"Less so than might be expected," you admit.

"It just hasn't hit you yet," Abe says. "Give it a little while."

"W-w-we were s-s-scared but it's f-fine now," Alphys says. She's probably trying to sound reassuring, but it's pretty obvious how shaken she is.

Abe sighs again. "You all should go home. I heard your version of the story. Did we get everyone?"

"No, a couple of them ran off," you tell him.

"Great. Alright, well, I'll make sure to get their names out of the ones we did get. Whenever you get a chance, send me an email describing the ones we missed. Until then, do you have a ride home?"

You assure him that you do, and after a few more questions he says that your group leave.

"But hey, be careful, alright? And, Sans, can you make sure that [your name] sits down and has a hot, non-caffeinated drink? It'll do them a world of good when things start setting in," Abe says. "Anything goes wrong, call me."

"Yeah, will do. Thanks for the help," Sans replies.

The ride home is mostly silent except for you giving directions to the woman, who introduces herself as Heather. She had apparently been one of those to leave the store when you'd entered, afraid of exactly what had occurred. She'd called the police station, but hadn't been able to clear her conscience and had waited around to bear witness to whatever happened. You assure her that you don't mind that she didn't help. It might not have done much anyways.

As the tension leaves you, you're left cold and absolutely exhausted. You're barely inside when you start shaking so badly that you have to lean on Papyrus to get onto the couch.

"Human, may I check your injuries? I fear that they may be more hazardous than you are currently aware of," Papyrus says as Sans disappears into the kitchen.

"N-n-nah, ch-check Frisk f-first," you say, teeth chattering even though it isn't a particularly cold day today. Could you be going into shock? you wonder.

Frisk shakes their head and signs I'm fine. It didn't even hurt.

Papyrus checks them anyways, quickly deciding that they are mostly unharmed. They'll probably have a small bruise from the man's boot, but they'd somehow avoided getting anything other than that and a scraped knee.

"I have verified that the small human is alright! May I now check on your injuries?" Papyrus asks.

"S-s-s-sure, Papyrus."

Papyrus couches down and checks your stomach wound. It's already clotted, and he confirms that it's really too shallow to bother doing much with. The cut on your neck is also safe, apparently. He moves you a bit and lifts your shirt to check your back. Some minor bruising, but nothing was broken or else you wouldn't be moving properly.

"I do not understand how you are unharmed," Papyrus says. "It is fortunate, but impossible."

"We can leave that for later," Sans says, handing you a mug of tea. You wrap your hands around it, murmuring your thanks. The blanket he throws around you is also more than welcome. Frisk climbs up onto the couch with you to give you a hug.

"Th-th-thanks, kiddo," you say, doing your best to give them a smile.

"Hey, Alphys, you alright?" Sans asks.

"A-a l-l-l-little shaken b-but I-I'll survive," Alphys says. She isn't shaking like you are, but she does look a bit unsteady.

"You sh-sh-should sit down," you say. She nods and does just that.

"Papyrus, Sans, are you two okay?" you ask. They both smile back at you, although its obviously forced.

"Of course we are!" Papyrus says.

"Nothin' gets under our skin," Sans says.

Papyrus doesn't even pretend to object to the joke. Either he's more shaken than he's leading you to believe, or you look worse than you feel. You laugh a bit anyways, earning you a more genuine smile from Sans. Despite the blanket and the tea, however, you can't seem to warm up.

"S-s-shoot, there m-may be something wrong with me after all," you say. You're getting the chattering under control, but you're still shivering violently.

"What do you mean?" Sans asks.

"I c-can't seem to warm up," you admit. "The tea isn't helping, and n-neither is the blanket."

"Y-y-you did just have a t-traumatic experience," Alphys says.

Sans looks contemplative. "I didn't get a good look, but when that guy tried to stab you, what happened?"

"I'm not really sure to be honest. The knife was kind of deflected? Like it had hit a shield or something," you say.

"And you feel cold?" Sans asks.

"Yeah?"

"And maybe a bit sick to your stomach?"

"I guess, yeah. Why?"

"You d-d-don't think...?" Alphys says, looking at you.

"Am I missing something here?" you ask.

"I th-think Sans is s-suggesting th-that... That y-you used m-m-magic," Alphys says.

"What? Oh come on, there's no way," you say, looking at Sans. When he doesn't immediately deny the possibility, you turn to Papyrus. He's frowning and looking at you with concern.

"C-c'mon guys," you chatter as a particularly bad shudder makes its way through you, "This is ridiculous."

"N-no, it isn't," Alphys says.

"I know the symptoms of overusing your magic," Papyrus declares. "Low temperature, extreme exhaustion and nausea are all common!"

"I just want to sleep, can we save the jokes for later?" you ask.

Sans shakes his head no. "If I'm right, you'll feel a lot better if you let us help you."

"Alright, and if you're wrong?"

"A bit of extra magic ain't gonna hurt ya," he says. "But if you tell me not to, I won't."

You sigh, giving up. "Alright, do whatever you think is necessary."

Sans nods and makes a gesture with his hand. Your chest glows, your soul emerging.

"What the...." Sans mutters, looking at it.

Like the last time you'd seen it, your soul is a heart shape made of golden flames. Unlike the last time, however, the crystalline case around it is entirely gone.

"Uh, is that bad?" you ask.

"N-no, well, uh, p-probably n-not?" Alphys says.

"I think.... Well, I think that glass stuff is your magic," Sans says.

"And I used it so it's gone?" you ask.

"Magic cannot be gone, human! You simply used so much that you can no longer manifest it," Papyrus explains.

"So that isn't bad?"

"N-not really? It happens all the t-time, so there's, there's really no need to w-worry," Alphys reassures you.

"Okay, that's good," you say. "How do we fix that though?"

"The best way's to give you some of somebody else's magic. Normally I'd say eat some magical food, but since that's in short supply, we'll use mine," Sans says.

"A-are you sure? I mean, isn't that, you know, part of your soul?" you say.

"Yeah, but monsters do this all the time. Sort of," he replies.

"Magic isn't n-normally transfered d-directly," Alphys says. "Th-there are only few exceptions b-but this is o-one of them."

"Don't ask what the other exceptions are. Take my word for it, you don't want to know," Sans tells you as you open your mouth to ask. He's blushing just a bit, so you decide to take his advice.

"Okay, what do I do?" you ask.

"Nothing. I'm the one who'll be doing all the work," Sans says.

"My god, Sans doing work? Maybe I didn't survive that fight," you say in an attempt at a joke. It doesn't go over well, which you probably should've known before you said it. Alphys squeaks and starts shaking, Frisk burrows in closer to you, Papyrus stares at the ground guiltily, and Sans' expression grows dark, his magic flaring brighter.

"S-sorry, that was in poor taste," you apologize.

"S'fine. Now, don't move," Sans says.

He crouches down and reaches out towards your soul. You instinctively want it back safely in your chest, and, following your thoughts, it jerks back towards you.

Sans looks away and stands up. He moves a step back, still smiling, but you think he looks just a little bit hurt.

"Sorry, didn't realize I scared you. Pap can do it instead if you'd like," he offers.

"No, no! I'm sorry, it's just that it's a little, you know, weird having my soul outside of my body and all that. I didn't do that on purpose," you say, embarrassed.

"You sure you don't mind?" Sans asks.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I freaked out," you say.

He still seems unconvinced, so you decide to try something. Maybe, if you could get your soul to move towards you... You think about all of your experiences with the monsters. Their laughter, the endless fun no matter what they were doing, how much you love your new family. And, more than that, you think about Sans. How much you trust him, how cute his blushes are, the way he laughed when he was genuinely amused, the odd fluttering in your stomach when he looks at you sometimes. Your soul responds, shining brighter and moving until it hovers just in front of the skeleton. His disbelieving gaze goes first to your soul and then to you.

"I trust you," you say, hoping that you've conveyed your message.

"Oh, uh, okay, I'm gonna try feeding magic directly into your soul, you ready?" Sans asks. He's blushing again, and you bite your lip to keep from smiling at how cute he looks. If only you had a head injury to blame those thoughts on, you think.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

Sans reaches out slowly this time. His hand pauses just above your soul.

"I, uh, are you really sure you don't mind?" he asks.

"I trust you," you say again. "Also, if you don't hurry I'm gonna have to set myself on fire in an attempt to warm up."

He chuckles a bit and moves a hand to cup your soul while extending one finger of the other towards it. He glances at you one last time before it makes contact.

You can't help but jump as he touches your soul. Ferrin hadn't lied, but she hadn't done the feeling justice either. It feels like Sans is touching your chest, just above your heart. But it's a little more intimate than just a touch, like he's touching something more crucial to you than your body, which is, you suppose, true. And more than that, you realize it feels like he's in your head.

"O-oh," you say, looking at him.

He's staring at your soul in astonishment and wonder, like he can't believe what he's seeing or feeling. It's the first time you'd seen him so unguarded, and you focus really hard on not thinking about how much you want to.... Do not finish that thought, you scold yourself.

"D-damn, [your name], this is.... damn," he whispers.

"I, uh, is something, ya know, wrong?" you ask, growing nervous.

"N-no, sorry, just.... uh, nah, s'nothing," he says, and his entire face is glowing bright blue.

"Brother! This is taking a ridiculously long time!" Papyrus interrupts, obviously fed up. Both of you jump a little bit when he starts talking. Apparently the connection works both ways, because you can feel Sans' surprise and embarrassment as well as your own.

"Heh, good point Pap," Sans says, and you feel him focusing on what needs to be done. You push a little and realize that you can feel Sans the same way he can feel you. You're pretty sure it would be rude to try to investigate further, but once you open the door you realize it's a heck of a lot more difficult to close. Sans is pretty much what you'd expected, a tense knot of worry and anger at the recent events, but below that you can sense things lurking that you know he doesn't want you to see. Resignation, a great deal of pain and sorrow all laced through with the kind of exhaustion no amount of sleep is going to fix.

"Alright, you ready?" Sans asks, jolting you guiltily from your mental exploration.

"Y-yeah, just sit here?"

"Yup."

You can feel it as he moves the magic from somewhere deep in his ribcage and out into his hand. A wispy blue fog rises from the hand still touching your soul to encase it. You can feel it all across your body, simultaneously hot and cold, as well as more than a little bit electric. The feeling isn't quite painful, but it is incredibly uncomfortable.

"S-shit, Sans, what the hell?" you gasp.

"Stop resisting it," he tells you. He's wincing a bit as the sensation is passed along your connection.

You focus on lowering your guard and allowing the magic in. The flames of your soul seem to flare up, devouring the magic Sans is offering you. The blue magic feels familiar and welcoming. As it's assimilated into your soul, you can feel the care and concern that had gone into giving it to you. The shivers cease immediately.

"Thank goodness," you say, relaxing.

You feel a flash of reluctance that isn't your own before Sans' presence in your mind is gone. Looking over, you can see that he's removed his hand from your soul. His usual smile is back on his face.

"You probly wanna put that back where it belongs," he says.

"I dunno, could make for a great Christmas decoration," you reply, grinning. He laughs even though it wasn't really that funny, probably for the same reason you'd made the joke - relief. You will your soul back to you and it melts back into your chest.

"A-are you feeling b-better?" Alphys asks.

"Yeah, much better. Thank you Sans," you say gratefully.

"No problem," he replies. "Pretty sure we're the ones who should be thanking you. You really saved us back there."

"I'm shouldn't have had to," you growl. "Apparently, humans haven't improved at all after all of those years."

"Do not fret! We are unharmed, after all!" Papyrus says.

"Yeah.... yeah, you're right. Frisk, are you alright?" you ask. For only being twelve years old, they were taking everything exceptionally well.

They nod. I'm fine, really, Frisk signs.

"Alright, if you say so kiddo. How about we call up Toriel and get her to come back here for you?" you ask.

"I, uh, I d-don't think th-that's going to b-be necessary," Alphys says. She nods towards the window and you turn to see several cars pulling into your driveway. One of the doors opens before the car's even stopped and you can see Undyne sprinting towards the house.

"Oh shit someone get the- !" you shout just before Undyne breaks down the door with a loud crash and skids into the room.

"- door."

"ALPHYS, ARE YOU HURT?" Undyne shouts, rushing to her girlfriend.

"N-n-no, Undyne, I-I'm fine!" Alphys says.

Undyne grabs her and lifts her off of the couch in a hug. She's shaking ever so slightly.

"Hey, it's okay," Alphys says, "I'm f-fine, see?"

"That sherif guy called us a few minutes ago, Al, my heart nearly stopped," Undyne says. "I thought...."

"[Your name]!" Ferrin shouts, and you turn to see that everyone else has made their way out of the cars more safely than Undyne and followed her inside. Ferrin runs up to you and hugs you tightly.

"We were so worried," she says, her voice trembling.

"It's alright, nobody's been seriously injured," you reassure her.

Toriel and Asgore are holding onto Frisk, looking like they aren't planning to let go. The kid could probably use it, you think. After all, they hadn't ever experienced violence like this before.

After the hugs and many, many reassurances, everyone demands to know what happened. Apparently Abe had only been able to give them the shortened version before Undyne had stolen the phone and demanded to know if everyone was home. They'd rushed over not knowing what to expect. The skeleton brothers do most of the talking, luckily. You're exhausted despite the magic transfer. When they get to that part of the story, Sans pauses and glances at you. You wave him on. After all, they deserve to know. Once the story is finished, everyone sits in dead silence for a few minutes.

Ferrin is the first to break the silence. "Holy crap."

"You can say that again," you say. Your memories of the fight are vague at best, probably due to the adrenaline, and you can barely believe that you're the one who did all of that.

Unsurprisingly, everyone's pretty shaken up. No one returns to the camp that night, although you do muster the energy to describe the men who'd gotten away as best you can to Abe when he calls. You head to bed early, and you're out the second your head hits the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm disappointed too. Who doesn't want to see Sans fight? Unfortunately, like I said, fighting means that the monsters would probably all be wiped out, so that's off the table... for now. He's helping you out by keeping them on the ground, so there's a plus.
> 
> Soul stuff is almost completely unexplored in-game, so I'm really allowed to do whatever I want, it's a heck of a lot of fun. And yes, the reader can use magic. I'll get into what all that means in a while, I promise.
> 
> You all keep mentioning "Chara" and "W. D. Gaster" I don't see any demon children or doctors around here. Just mystery voices and strange grey blobs. Nope, no idea who and/or what you're talking about. Absolutely nooo idea. Muahahaha.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and infinite thanks to everyone who leave such great comments, especially those of you who comment on every single chapter, oh my goodness you guys are just too nice!


	11. At Least Take Me To Dinner First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I couldn't resist on the chapter name, it was too good an opportunity. No need to worry, just some light sinning, nothin' explicit.
> 
> It's been a really, really long day. You fought off three men, used magic for the first time, nearly froze into a popsicle, and saved what could've been a much worse confrontation. So surely that explains how you got into this situation.... right?

It feels like only moments later that you wake up. You try to turn to check the time and instead groan loudly. Every muscle in your body seems to be protesting even thinking about movement. Of course, considering what you'd just been through, sore muscles are really the best possible outcome. However, you doubt that the soreness had caused you to wake.

A muffled cry from the next room tells you what had woken you up. Ah, hell. Of course the kid was having nightmares after the events of that afternoon. What kind of kid wouldn't?

You cuss under your breath as you force your protesting body into an upright position. Standing is a bit more difficult, but you manage it eventually. The noises from the next room haven't ceased. If anything, they've gotten louder and more frequent. It sounds like Frisk might still be stuck in their nightmares.

You don't bother with any lights as you make your way out of your room. You knock lightly on the door, not expecting a response. When none is given, you open the door and close it shut behind you. It's only as you turn around that you realize your mistake.

This isn't Frisk's room - theirs is in the opposite direction. And that certainly isn't Frisk glowing bright blue and tossing and turning in bed like they're being strangled. Sans appears to be stuck in a nightmare even worse than any of Frisk's. He's moving feverishly, blankets kicked to the end of the bed. Broken moans and sobs are escaping his mouth and you want to reach out to him, but this isn't like helping Frisk. Frisk is a child after all, and Sans... well, he's an adult, and a secretive one at that. He probably wouldn't thank you if you helped him. Heck, he would probably throw you out of his room. But you can't leave him like this.

"Hey, Sans?" you call softly.

He shudders and moans, "No, no, stop...."

"Sans, I'm in your room and you're gonna kill me for this," you say as you reach his bed. You're extending a hand to try to shake him awake when he starts shouting.

"NO! STOP, NO, PAPYRUS! NOOOOO!"

His eye sockets snap open, one a black void the other pulsing yellow to blue and he's looking at you but through you.

"Sans I-I - "

You never get to finish the sentence. Sans' magic grabs you, and it's nothing like what you'd experienced earlier. It's frigid and you can feel your soul being squeezed, making it hard to breathe. Sans whips his hand, lifting you into the air. You only have a second to be afraid before he slams you into the opposite wall. You hit the wall with a loud thunk, and the magic fades away,dropping you to the floor.

You'd probably be cussing right about now of that hadn't hurt so badly. Instead you're left gasping for air that your lungs can't seem to get back. After a few failed heaves, your body finally remembers how to function and you gulp down air gratefully. Miracle of all miracles, nothing's broken. You think. Just very, very angry at being hurt again.

"Oh my god. Oh no, no no no nonononononono," you hear Sans say.

"M'fine," you say, coughing.

He rushes over to you anyways. You try to move and have to take a moment to recover. You stifle a groan, but you're pretty sure he hears you anyways.

"Shit, I... That was...." Sans trails off, apparently unable to say exactly what that had been.

"Having a nightmare. I noticed," you say, gingerly pushing yourself up. Can't stay on the floor forever, after all. No matter how tempting it is.

"Are you....?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I grabbed you?"

"Yeah. Wall's softer than you might think," you say, looking at Sans. His eye and hand are still glowing, and you can clearly see tears still making their way down his face.

"Shit... I'm so sorry," he croaks, staring down at his hands. He's shaking, bones rattling against each other.

"No need, I'm not hurt. I'm the one who's sorry for sneaking into your room."

"You heard me?" he asks quietly.

"I..... yeah, I did. I don't think you were loud enough to wake anyone else up though."

"That's good...." he trails off.

The tears are falling faster and faster from his eye sockets and his arms are wrapped around himself like he's trying to hold himself together. He looks, for lack of a better word, broken. Like he's made of something fragile that's already been pieced back together a million times.

You reach out to him and he flinches away. Of course he would, you think. You're really not close enough for you to do that, are you?

"Sorry, I... I should go, huh?" you say, preparing to get to your feet. You're stopped by a hand grabbing yours desperately.

"Can you stay?" Sans whispers, voice breaking.

You stop and envelop him in a hug. For a few moments, you think you've made a mistake - Surely, Sans would rather have you leave? Hugging him was too much, maybe? - but he grabs ahold of you and clutches you tightly to him.

He buries his face into your shoulder, and you can feel the wetness of tears(?) soaking into your shirt. The shaking from earlier hasn't stopped, and despite his best efforts, small sobs are still escaping him. You move your thumb in small circles on what's probably his shoulder blade, trying to comfort him.

He eventually hiccups his way into silence, but shows no inclination to let go. In fact, he's almost holding you tighter than before.

"I'm such a shitty person," he eventually whispers.

"No, you aren't. Someone walks into your room in the middle of the night, of course you'd freak out."

He doesn't respond, and you try to think of a way to reassure him. Well, you aren't much of a comedian, but it couldn't hurt to try. Even if the first thing that came to mind was a little... suggestive.

"Ya know, I might not mind being slammed into walls, but I do appreciate dinner first," you say.

Sans doesn't laugh, but you think you can feel the corners of his mouth twitch a little.

"What, trying to pretend that didn't tickle your funny bone? You've gotta stop skull-king."

Your comedic efforts pay off as Sans gives a small chuckle.

"Oh c'mon, you can't start laughing yet, I've got a skele-ton more jokes to go!"

He snorts and says, "And you say I make terrible puns."

"You do. They're terrible and hilarious. But they make everybody laugh, and that's what counts."

He sighs and lets go of you. You lean back, trying to figure out what you're supposed to do now.

"Do you want to talk about it? It seemed pretty bad," you say.

"I'm fine. Just... had a bad dream." His words might have been convincing if his voice hadn't broken on the last word.

"Lying won't do you any good. I can see right through you."

Another reluctant chuckle from Sans, but it's an improvement.

"M fine, really. Happens all the time,' Sans says.

"What? Sans, that's the opposite of reassuring!" you say.

"I mean it, I'm fine," Sans says. He rises to his feet, looking anywhere but at you.

"You know, you don't need to lie to me."

"That's not.... it's just - Ah, fuck it," he says turning back to you. His expression is pained, and you can clearly see the emotions you'd felt earlier on his face.

"Ya really want to know what's wrong?" Sans asks.

"Yes. Please let me help?"

"Heh. Good one. You can't help us. This entire situation? It's fuckin' hopeless. Sooner or later humans are going to decide that we don't deserve to live on your precious world and d'you know what happens then? We try to fight back. Sure, a few humans have a bad time but in the end we lose. And then we're all right back where we fucking started!"

"Sans, I-"

"Do you want to know the best part? I've actually been trying this time around! I've really, genuinely put effort into something that won't matter. Nothing matters. Kid'll probably murder us all the next reset and d'you know how I feel about that? I can't even bring myself to give a fuck. Everyone dies, everyone lives, is there really a god damn difference?"

He's grinning at you but it's a tortured smile, tears sliding down his face.

"No one is going to die," you say with more confidence than you feel. "Abe and Ferrin and I, we'll protect you guys."

He laughs bitterly. "Oh yeah, our three man army, forgot about you guys. How long d'you think it would take for the three of you to die, huh? You humans are so damn fragile."

"I was strong enough to protect you this afternoon!"

"By using magic you shouldn't have touched! You nearly died!"

"But I didn't! I'm right here, alive and mostly well."

Sans takes a shaky breath and holds it as he presses his palms into his eye sockets. He stays like that for a long time before sighing and crossing his arms .You try to get up and fall back with a small whimper.

"Shit, sorry," Sans says, looking at you. With a lot of support and much cursing on your part, he helps you stand. Even leaning most of your weight on him, you just barely make it into a sitting position on his bed. You've severely overtaxed your body and it's not being shy about letting you know it's angry.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. S'not your fault, I'm sorry," Sans says.

"You've had a really long day. I understand."

"That's an understatement. I'd use my magic to take you to your room, but it's, uh, not as reliable as I'd like right now. I'll go sleep on the couch," Sans says.

"Oh no you don't," you say, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "If I can scare off Frisk's nightmares then I can do the same for yours."

"I, uh, ya know that's... probably not a good idea," Sans mutters.

"Sans, I do not care that you slammed me into a wall. Unless you're planning to do it again?" you say.

" 'Course not. But, ya know, two people, one bed... Somebody might misunderstand that."

You sigh. "Sans, for pity's sake, we're adults. Even if we had been doing, well, that, it's nobody's business but our own. And, let me repeat myself, I'm not going to let you go off and be by yourself again. I'd much rather get an explanation for what the hell you were talking about earlier."

"You'll be doing both of us a favor if you forget everything I just said. 'Sides, it's all a hell of a lot more complicated than you want to listen to right now," Sans says, refusing to meet your eyes.

"How's about you try me and we'll see where it goes from there?"

"C'mon, you've had a long day, right? You must be exhausted? Wouldn't you rather sleep?"

"Nice try. Thanks for the concern, but I still want an explanation."

He sighs and slumps down onto the bed beside you. "Alright, look. I'm gonna be honest with you, ya really don't want to hear any a this."

"You keep saying that, yes."

"And, I don't want to tell you."

Now that, you don't have a response for.

"But... I kinda feel like I owe ya somethin', considering. It's just... D'you mind if I don't tell you everything tonight? I could really, really use some rest."

"I get that. I'm just saying, if you go downstairs right now you're going to be up watching TV all night - yet again, I might add - and then I'm going to have to fall down the stairs in an attempt to get you to finally sleep. It wouldn't be pretty. I'm not trying to demand an explanation here though. I just think you should get it off of your chest instead of pretending you don't have a problem."

"Heh. I've been pretending not to have problems for a pretty long time, ya know."

"I'm beginning to see that, yes. How about you start with why you said 'this time around'."

"... How about we just go to bed?"

You look at him silently instead of responding. He sighs and flops back on his bed, folding his hands behind his head.

"Ah man... that's starting in the middle, to be honest. Or, well, it's also the beginning. And the end. Time is a weird thing."

"Okay, let's try for an explanation that makes sense."

He chuckles. "Yeah, sorry. I'm gonna give you the real simple version if you'll forgive me for it. One last time, are you really sure that you want to hear this? I'm sayin' this as someone who thinks of ya as a good friend. This ain't the kinda thing you wanna know."

You pause and consider, since that seems to be what he wants. "Whatever you're about to tell me.... You don't want me to know it, you think it'll cause me pain, and it's what caused your nightmare?"

"Yup."

"Sounds like pretty heavy stuff."

"Yup."

"As someone who considers you a good friend, then.... I'm gonna have to say I need to hear this."

"No skin off my nose," he says, "Alright, if we're gonna start here... You have magic, right?"

"I mean, I guess so, sure?"

"Humans like you can use magic naturally. There're ways to learn magic, but humans have a helluva time with it since it isn't natural to 'em. So those of you that've got the ability to use your magic, you're rare. But you're usually restricted to a very limited kind of magic. Some humans won't ever get a burn, others'll always be able to grow whatever plant they're workin' with, little things like that. But the one that can't get burned won't be able to use the magic to grow plants, and the one that can grow plants won't be resistant to burns. They'll also vary in power - maybe the one who can't get burned could survive being thrown into a volcano, while the other can only help smaller plants and wouldn't be able to do anythin' for a tree."

"Okay, makes sense. And this relates to my question how?"

"I'm gettin' there, don't worry. So your power, it's defensive. You can probably defend yourself, maybe with some practice defend somebody else. But if you'd never been put into a situation where you'd needed it, you'd never've found out about it. Plus, a big thing with humans is the emotions behind the magic. You were scared, you defended yourself. Make sense?"

"As much sense as the word magic being used to describe real events can make, yes."

"Now, imagine you're a kid again, let's say you're eleven, for example. You're an eleven year old kid with nothin' waiting for ya at home and you've just fell down into what might as well be another planet. You'd be terrified, right? And nobody's ever been nice to you, not even the people who brought ya into the world. So you stumble across a real old spell and you find out that you can access it. And that spell allows you to set a point in time that you can go back to whenever you need it. You'd use it, right?"

"I... suppose so, yes."

"So now you've created what we'll call your 'save point'. But you're still in this mystery cavern, still stuck, so you decide to head off and find a way out. You run into this thing, and you can't quite figure out what the hell it is, and then it attacks you. It doesn't do a helluva lot a damage, but it hurts. So you strike back. The thing doesn't just get hurt, it crumbles away into dust, and you feel stronger. That's not a feeling you're used to, but you definitely like it. You keep goin', keep hittin' things, you're feeling pretty good about yourself. Then you run into, oh, let's say a goat person. She's real sweet, real nice, right? She takes you into her place, feeds ya, gives ya a room. But by this point, you're curious - if this place is so much fun, what about the rest of the caves? So you tell her you need to leave. But she won't let you. She starts fighting you, sayin' it's for your own good and you decide you don't have a choice so you kill her. You get into the rest a the caves, meet some more things like the ones you've already seen. You aren't goin' out of your way to kill everything, just fightin' whatever goes after ya. Some random things, a couple a guards. But eventually ya meet this kid who hasn't done anythin' wrong, and ya can't bring yourself to kill them. And he says you're horrible for doin' what you've done. Normally, there ain't a way to fix that, you'd just be fucked. But you, you have that save point, so you go all the way back to the beginning. This time 'round, you try to figure out how not to kill these things, only you end up dying instead. But the kid's words stick with you so you try again. And again. And again. And again. So you decide the kid was wrong. You go back through, killing everybody and when the kid says you're disgusting you decide to kill him too."

"Sans, wait," you interrupt, "You can't mean..."

"It's a hypothetical situation. Now, can I finish please?"

"I.... yeah. Yeah, please. Sorry for interrupting."

"As I was saying. You tried to kill the kid, but this woman, she gets in your way. Kid runs off and you're left facing this lady. She kills you pretty much instantly, and you're pissed. She'd save that kid but murder another? You go back and you die. A lot. But ya figure out her patterns and eventually she's the one with the gaping wounds, not you. Right before she dies she tells ya that people are evacuating to avoid you. They're normal everyday people and they just want their families to survive. You start feelin' guilty again, but surely you'd never had another option? So you keep going, but with every death you're hating yourself a little bit more. Finally, you reach the end. Nothin' left between you and freedom. Except you're wrong. There's somebody there and he's furious. You killed the one person he... the only...... the... fuck," Sans says. He sits back up, dashing more tears from his eyes. He's glowing dangerously again.

"You can stop if you'd like," you say.

"No. I need to finish this. You, little fucking piece of shit that you are, killed off the one person that this guy can't fucking live without. The only one who wouldn't've ever hurt you, that's who you fucking murdered in cold blood. And so he kills you brutally, tears your shitty little body into a million fucking pieces even as he hates himself for doing it because he hates you more. So you go back to the beginning because you weren't expecting to have to deal with that kind of hell. You redo it again, change some things up, avoid the spot he was in before and reset. You can even do this as many times as you want to! Nobody else seems to remember, so there aren't really any consequences. In fact it's almost fun. It's like a goddamn video game, now ain't it? Ya kill some things, ya don't kill some things, don't make a difference, not like they stay dead. And you sure don't wanna go home. Eventually, you even figure out how to survive and live with these weird things for a while. Not that it lasts, you don't let it last, but that's all new and fun. Even better, you get so good at your little 'game' that you can spare all of them. And one time you do just that. You befriend everyone and you even get them out of the underground! But that's sooooo boring. Who wants to live back on the surface? You've been there, done that. Sure, everybody's happy, but they won't remember if you just pull them back so it's okay. It's all great. So you reset. Back to square one. Have fun tricking people since you already know what they're gonna say and do. Work your way through the caves and back above ground. Time for a reset! A. million. FUCKING. TIMES."

He's shaking again, and you put your arm around him comfortingly. You can't believe what you're hearing, but it must be real - he wouldn't be acting like the otherwise.

"You're talking about Frisk." Not a question, a statement.

"Supposed to be hypothetical," he replies.

"Bullshit. But, if no one remembers.... Then how do you know this?"

"I remember. I always remember. It's burned into my fucking skull, [your name]. I have to see Pap.... I watch him die pretty much every night," he admits.

"Oh my god, Sans, that's awful. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry isn't gonna fix that.... But thanks."

"But, I mean, we're here right now talking about this, so there hasn't been a reset for a while, right?"

"Six months, two weeks, three days. Yeah, I know. Eventually the kid and I had a real long conversation about what they'd done. Most of it... most of it I can forgive 'em for. Anythin' else I work real hard to forget. Doesn't mean it ain't still there."

"Did Frisk stop killing... No, don't answer that."

"Heh. Told ya. There're some things you're better off not knowin'. If it helps, most all of the past few hundred resets have been a mutual agreement between the two a us."

"Few hundred?" you choke out. You lean back to get a better look at his face, and he smiles weakly.

"Humans and monsters.... Let's just say yesterday wasn't the first time I've watched humans try to kill us all. Frisk and I, we agreed that if anybody dies, even if it's a monster or human we didn't know personally, they reset."

A realization dawns on you. "If you've reset that many times, how often have you lived with us here? I haven't hurt any of you before, have I?"

"Never. Pretty sure we've never even met before this timeline. Further ya get from Frisk's starting point the more the timelines diverge. By the time we get above ground, lotsa things've changed. Plus, we've never actually gotten this far. The furthest we'd gotten before now was three months, nine days. We messed up. Muffet wasn't using her spiders to look far enough, and a couple of humans got through the camp perimeter. They had guns. Not sure how many died before Frisk reset. A lot."

"Holy shit," you whisper.

"Yeah, you can say that again. Shit's pretty fucking awful, tibia honest."

"Really not the time."

"I cope by using shitty humor and pretending that nothing's wrong. So it's definitely the time. Probably also time to act like everything I just told ya is a huge hoax, but I don't think you'd buy it."

"You'd be insulting my intelligence if you did. Damn, Sans. That's some heavy stuff. No wonder you and Frisk have so many nightmares."

"Yeah. That's the basics of it."

You fall silent, thinking about everything that you've learned. It was a lot of information to process, after all. It's only when Sans leans against you that you're drawn out of your mind. You think it's probably an accident that his hand happens to overlap yours on the bed.

"Thanks for listenin' to all a that," he says. "It's been a lot of resets since I've bothered telling anybody. Once the kid and I started trying to make each reset the last one, I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone that we'd all been massacred by humans before. I'd forgotten how nice it feels."

"Thank you for telling me. I know there isn't much I can do for you aside from listen, but I mean, things are better this time, right? No one's died, and it's been more than half a year."

"And we found a couple of... very interesting humans to take us in," he says, chuckling.

"I suppose you could say that, yes. Guess I finally know why you threatened me with death way back when."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. And sorry for chucking you against the wall earlier. I wasn't thinkin' clearly."

"You thought I was Frisk."

"Yup. Kiddo and I have an interesting relationship."

"Sounds like it."

"You should really go to sleep, ya know. You're goin' to be real sore in the morning."

"I'm sore now," you grumble. "Assholes weren't holding back when they tried to kill me earlier."

"I wasn't holdin' back either."

"Yes, but you're not an asshole."

"I certainly can be. Just too lazy."

"Nah. You're a good person, Sans."

He snorts and says bitterly, "Were you listening or not? I killed Frisk. I've killed Frisk more times than I can count."

"Sounds like you didn't kill them unless they'd done plenty to deserve it. Plus, the kid isn't exactly an angel."

"I still murdered a kid."

"And that kid murdered an entire species single-handedly."

"..... True. Nobody's really guilt free in this situation."

Sans sighs, but he's not shaking any more and the tears have stopped. He does look exhausted though.

"You look like you could use a real bed, no matter how comfortable the couch is. If you're willing to help me, I can probably make it to my room," you say.

"Depends. Your offer to stay here and chase away nightmares still stand?"

"I mean, only if you, ya know, want to."

"I think I'd like that," Sans says.

He climbs around you to lay on the side of the bed nearest the wall. You slowly twist your body until you're laying on your stomach - your sides and back hurt far too much to sleep in any other position - and try to get comfortable. Sans pulls the blankets up over both of you and then casually lays his hand across your back before pulling it back suddenly.

"Shit, sorry, I wasn't thinking about your injuries, did I hurt you?"

"Nah. You're pretty light, ya know."

"So.... Do you mind if I do that?"

"Not if you don't mind if I use you for warmth."

"You're cold again? Ah, crap, I made you use magic, didn't I? Do you need more of mine?"

"No, no, that's not it. I just wanted to make sure I had your permission before I did this," you say, moving just a bit so your side is gently pressing into his. You can feel his ribs move as he laughs quietly and puts his arm back over you.

As tempting as sleep is, you're still bothered by his confessions.

"Are you sure that there's nothing I can do? About the resets, I mean."

"You already have. This afternoon, I thought we were going to have to go back for sure. And instead.... Instead you decided to save us."

"Save you? Please, you could've taken them on with one hand tied behind your back. Just grab them with whatever you used on me and bam, problem solved. All I did was cause you problems by using magic."

"Nah. We owe you."

"You do not owe me. I wanted to save you, so I did."

"Yeah, I could feel that. Earlier, I mean, with the whole soul thing."

"I was going to ask... How much of my mind could you see into, exactly?"

"You, uh, probly don't wanna know."

"You keep saying that," you say, yawning.

"Well, I wasn't wrong before. 'Sides, isn't it time to sleep?"

"It's probably five in the morning, people are awake now."

"Not people who've been up all night dealing with crazy skeletons."

"I consider that time well spent. Besides, somebody had to keep you company. Might as well be me."

"I'm glad it was you."

Luckily, your blush doesn't glow like his, or the room would be brighter than it was in full daylight.

"I'm glad to have been able to help. Still curious about the soul thing though."

"Well, if ya want the truth.... You know how ya used your feelings to move your soul?"

"Ah, fuck me, you're kidding?"

"Nope. But hey, it ain't so bad."

"You're now aware that I mentally refer to Toriel as goat mom, pretty sure it's terrible."

"You do?" Oh my god," Sans says, laughing. "Jesus - You're joking, right? Oh man, that's hilarious!"

You once again thank your cheeks for not glowing.

"Shut up," you grumble. Your words have the opposite effect, causing Sans to laugh harder.

"That's priceless," he finally wheezes.

"Glad to have amused you."

"Ahh, I needed that. Goat mom. Oh man, I love it."

"Alright, alright. So if that wasn't the kind of thing you were talking about, what could you see?"

"More along the lines of feelings instead of thoughts. Like how much you love your sister, that you see Papyrus as a bit of a younger brother..... Ya know, stuff like that."

"Nothing else?"

"Is there something else?"

"Nah." At least, nothing that needs to be discussed tonight, you think. He'd probably seen what you thought about him. You know that. And if his response was letting you into his bed, even if you were genuinely just sleeping together, then that was good enough for now.

"If ya say so. How about my soul? Could you feel anything from my end?"

"What happened to sleeping?"

"Oh ho, who's the one dodging questions now?"

"At least I'm not as obvious as you are. I uh, kinda messed up, I think. I could feel you through my soul, but I thought maybe I could push something a bit and I was curious, so I did. Turns out that sort of let me into your mind just a little?"

"Hmph. Well, can't fault ya for curiosity. It's certainly got my cat once or a million times. Plus, who knows, mighta been necessary for the transfer," he says before yawning.

"Sorry about that. I didn't get much, just kinda vague impressions of your current mood."

"Nah, it's fine. Not a big deal anyways. Seriously though, I'm gonna fall asleep talkin' at this rate."

"Oh, of course, I'm sorry. Just watch out because I'm gonna grill you about this tomorrow."

"Sure, sure. 'Night, [your name]."

"Good night Sans."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How's everybody else gonna respond in the morning? *Shrugs*
> 
> How many other tricks can Sans do with that magic of his? Let your imagination answer that one. (For now.)
> 
> How long are you going to get to be cute with Sans before I do something terrible? *Maniacal laughter in the distance*
> 
> The list of chapters left until things get real is getting very, very short. In case any of you were curious, I'm currently estimating the final chapter count at anywhere between 40 and 50. This is chapter 11. Yes, you should be terrified. No, this isn't going to be 39 chapters of fluff. Yes, I will enjoy every minute of it. And you probably will too, I promise!


	12. Moving Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major edits have been made to chapter 11! Please go back and read them if you haven't already! (Sorry for the inconvenience!)
> 
> You wake up in Sans' bed. You've heard all about the resets, the deaths, the pain. Heck, he's even touched your soul. So why the hell is he avoiding you now?

Why the hell your first instinct was to stretch when you woke up is beyond you.

You bite your lip to avoid shouting at the top of your lungs. Your back must be a complete mess, considering how much pain that had caused you.  

"Yeah, I figured you were gonna be in for a world of hurt," Sans says from beside you. He sounds wide awake, like he's been up for awhile already.

"That's one way to put it," you groan.

"Do you need a hospital or are we talkin' going to hate being alive for a few days and then get over it?"

"Definitely the latter. Give me a week and I'll be back to normal. Thanks for the concern though."

" 'Course. Want me to move you to your room? Less questions that way."

"Ferrin would love to know that we'd shared a bed overnight. Which is to say, yes, please."

He chuckles and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. A very cold, breathless second later, you're laying on your bed.

"Thanks, but wow is that uncomfortable."

"Yeah, it was pretty scary the first time. But hey, it gets me around. How do you feel?"

"My best comparison is a god awful combination of having been run over with a semi and then trampled by elephants."

"Really not very surprising, considering. I'm gonna head downstairs and grab you some painkillers. Tori can probably help heal you a bit if you're willing to let her."

"Please to both. Thanks."

"Sure thing," he says before he disappears with a pop.

You take the time to re-evaluate how badly damaged you are. You're almost positive nothing's broken, and that just doesn't make sense. For having been slammed into three unyielding surfaces in the last twenty four hours, you haven't taken anywhere near enough damage.

"Hey," Ferrin calls, opening the door. "How are you feeling?"

"About as well as can be expected. Actually, scratch that, I'm doing much better than I have any right to be. Still not gonna sit up to greet you guys though, best not to risk it."

"Your lack of true harm is likely due to your magic power," Toriel informs you.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same. Speaking of magic, I was promised painkillers."

Sans' chuckle reaches your ears and he enters your line of view. You accept the offered water and pills gratefully.

"My child, do you mind if I check your injuries?" Toriel asks. "I will likely need to remove your shirt to heal them."

"Yeah, that's fine. You might have to cut off this shirt though, I can't move my shoulders worth a darn."

As it turns out, Toriel has to do just that. You're a little reluctant to ruin a perfectly good pajama shirt, but there's no other way to get it off. Luckily, everything important is still covered, because neither Ferrin nor Sans leave the room. The fact that everyone makes a sound of surprise upon seeing your back probably doesn't bode well for your recovery.

"So, do I look as bad as I feel?"

"Jesus christ...." Ferrin says.

"Gonna take that as a yes. I'm sure it looks worse than it is."

"Really not sure that that's possible," Ferrin replies.

"Anyone want to describe this mess to me?"

"You have several severe bruising here, here, and here," Toriel says, softly touching the spots. Unsurprisingly, they're clustered around areas like your shoulder blades, where you were hit the hardest.

"Ah well, bruises heal eventually. Gonna look terrible for a while though."

"May I heal you? I do realize that these will heal on their own, but as you are a dear friend who was injured protecting other dear friends as well as my child. I would like to repay the favor, even in this small way," Toriel says.

"You don't have to, Toriel. Won't it wear you out?"

"No more than Whimsun's healing exhausted her. Healing is among the easier magics. Do I have your permission, then?"

"Only if you make sure to leave yourself with plenty of magic. I'd hate for you to exhaust yourself for my sake."

"Do not worry, my child. I will be careful," Toriel says, laying gentle paws on your back. You can't see what she's doing from your position, but the glow coming from her hands is clearly visible. Your back feels pleasant warm, then incredibly itchy. You must have twitched, because Toriel laughs softly.

"My apologies, I should have warned you. This will feel a bit strange."

The itching stops when Toriel pulls her hands away, thankfully. You sit up gingerly.

"How do you feel?" Ferrin asks.

"Still really tired, but my back is much, much better. Thank you Toriel," you say, looking up at her gratefully. She nods and smiles.

Sans, on the other hand, looks like he's going to be sick. "Are humans supposed to change colors like that? It looks.... really painful."

"Yup, bruises are gross. Honestly my sibling here is lucky that nothing worse happened. They should've broken a few ribs at the very least," Ferrin says.

Sans shudders. "Being reminded that you guys have skeletons hidden under all of that other junk is always creepy."

"You're planning on living with humans so you'd better get used to it," you say.

"Are you feeling able to go downstairs, [your name]? We will do our best to assist you. Everyone is very concerned for your health," Toriel says.

"Yeah, just uh, could you guys go outside for a few minutes? I'd like to change first."

"You sure you can do that on your own?" Ferrin asks.

"Definitely. I'll call you guys in to help me get downstairs, okay?"

They leave and you make your way to your feet. By turning to achieve just the right angle - and hurting yourself in the process, of course - you can see that your back does, in fact, look pretty gross. It's a patchy collection of greens, yellows, your normal skin tone, and just a tick of purple. You try not to imagine what it had looked like prior to the healing as you get dressed.

With Toriel's help you make it downstairs just fine. Everyone makes a huge fuss over you, much to your embarrassment. You'd apparently made them pretty worried. As Papyrus informs you, you'd slept in past noon - "and, oddly enough, so did Sans!" - so if Sans hadn't called Toriel upstairs when he did, someone would have come up to check on the both of you. Luckily nobody seems to find it strange that you had both woken up at the same time.

After you've assured everyone that you're just fine aside from some now mostly healed bruising, things mostly go back to normal. Sans has disappeared from the room, but that's nothing unusual. You eventually excuse yourself and go back to sleep in your room.

 ****  
  
  


 

 

You spend most of the next week recuperating and helping Abe figure out if the five men had been a part of a larger group or just a bunch of morons.The government had spent a few of their men in to assist, meaning you couldn't be as active a helper as you'd like. You had been mostly relegated to describing the men who escaped and telling your story over and over again. Everything you found out was given to you by Abe during his brief visits to your house. Of course, the news got ahold of the information sooner rather than later. They were obliged to keep away from your home and the monster camp by the government, but that didn't stop them from bugging any and everyone involved.

Thorough searches of all of the men's homes had turned up a few things of note. Each of the men had written letters to their family members, apparently under the impression that this mission would be their last on Earth. They'd all followed the same basic pattern; a farewell to family, a condemnation of the monsters, an even more explicit and inflammatory condemnation of you and your sister, and a call to arms for those who had not been corrupted by the "demons of hell". They'd found a scrap of mostly burnt paper in the fireplace of one home that carried the words 'Monster Hun-' along with what appeared to be the beginning of a letter. The other homes carried evidence of similar burnings. The men also had a silver badge each. Based on this, the search had assumed the men had been involved with the Hunters.

Fortunately, the two men who'd run when they'd confronted you had no problem spilling everything that they knew once they were threatened with life in federal prison. What they'd said wasn't information made available to you, however. Abe made sure that you knew he would have told you if he could, but that pretty much everything was heavily classified.

You'd known that was going to happen, of course. Since there was nothing else you could do, you'd just settled on assuming that the people who were in the know would keep you safe. No, that wasn't what was eating at you. What was really causing you trouble was the fact that Sans had been outright avoiding you since you'd slept in his bed.

He hadn't made it obvious, of course. It wasn't like he sprinted out of the room whenever you walked in. The avoidance was a bit more subtle than that. He would find excuses to leave the room whenever you showed any slight interest in a conversation with him. He spent more time 'up in his room' - you were pretty sure he used his short cuts to go elsewhere but hadn't been able to prove it. He never sat down with the group at the TV if you were there. There were other things too, of course. But they could all be summed up by the fact that you were a good deal less than sure that you were still friends. You'd honestly expected to have grown closer after the events of that day, not further away.

You give him a week's worth of space, figuring he'll come and talk to you eventually. When he doesn't, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You head upstairs early, then wait for him by the door to his room.

"Sans. I need to talk to you," you say as he comes down the hallway.

"Can't say I wasn't expecting this. Do we have to talk in the hallway, or can we chat in my room?"

"Uh... I mean, whatever you'd prefer?"

You follow him into his room, now puzzled. You'd expected him to brush you off. He gestures to his bed, and you sit down as he brings his desk chair in front of you.

"Room's a mess, sorry 'bout that."

"Nah, I don't mind. What I do mind is that you've been avoiding me."

He sighs and looks away from you. "Not really avoiding you per say. I was givin' you the chance to walk away from what you learned. And I needed some time to sort myself out."

 

"I don't regret learning about the resets and the saves. I'm sorry if you regret telling me though."

"No, sorry. Not what I meant. Ya see.... Well, it's another story, you mind?"

"Nah, I've got the time. Besides, you're a pretty good storyteller."

"Comes from years a telling Pap bedtime stories. Alrighty. So. Imagine how it is to be me for a sec here. I've been through the same few days more times than I care to count. Almost everything that happens to me gives me this intense sense of deja vu, sometimes enough to make me physically ill. Some a the things that seemed real important back before the resets just don't matter anymore. Things like eating schedules, work, not showin' up at home drunk every day at two in the morning. So I ended up abandoning a lotta things. Anything that wasn't for Papyrus, really. He's the only thing I haven't given up on, no matter what's happened. Even then, don't always do as well as he deserves. But I mean, I had a life before the resets aside from him, ya know?"

"Makes sense."

"The first time Frisk let us all live, I met the woman I'd been talkin' to for a few months. We met in... well, let's just call it an unconventional method. We had the same taste in bad jokes, some a the same interests, the same need to fill the void in our lives with something other than loneliness. I didn't even know her name and I knew I wanted to try to fill in that gap for her. And when we finally meet, she's beautiful. Gorgeous even. She's more than I'd been hoping for, and it sure as hell seems like she's flirting with me. God, it was so.... happy. That first time, everything was so amazing. I really... I really thought the kid was gonna leave us happy like that."

You say nothing as Sans' expression grows distant. He's lost in his memories for a few moments before he turns back to you.

" 'Course, it didn't last. Never does. Still, I got a few days with her and we were happy. Next timeline where we meet, I rush things a little and confess to her early on. She's thrilled. Those were some a the best few days of my life. Another reset. Another chance to make her happy again. So I do. And I keep doing it. Once or twice, I even tell her what's happened. But eventually, I realized that I'd started to see it like how Frisk did. A game where I figured out what the best thing to say is, how to prod her just right to get the loudest laugh. Not a happy revelation. Then I realized that I'd loved her for what feels like eons, and she felt like we've just met, because in that timeline, we had. Eventually I started to forget what had happened in that timeline and what hadn't yet. Finally, after I don't even know how many resets, I just couldn't do it anymore. I stopped taking the opportunities and I let her find her happiness on her own. Hasn't happened yet, but I'm pretty sure she'll get back together with Asgore if she's given long enough. Hell, she might've one day regretted taking a punny skeleton half her height over a king."

Sans and Toriel? Odd as it sounds, you can actually see it. They're pretty close even now. You shove down the spark of jealousy in your chest. Not only is it completely inappropriate, but Sans deserves to be happy.

"You're selling yourself short," you say.

"Could be. Either way, I gave up on dating her. That isn't to say that I haven't drowned my sorrows with other people, but I never did get into a serious relationship."

"Wait, like sex?"

"Uh, yeah? Look, s'not like I'm proud of it. I just needed to forget. So I used whatever was at my disposal."

Do not ask about how the hell a skeleton could have sex, do not ask how the hell a skeleton could have sex.... Damn, your curiosity would be the death of you one of these days.

"Okay, so now I know your history with Toriel. But why did you tell me this right now? What does it have to do with you avoiding me?"

"I explained that so that you'll understand why I needed a whole week to decide to do somethin'. Ya see, I saw what you think of me when I touched your soul," he says, staring straight at you.

You struggle not to look away. "Yeah, I figured. You don't have to do anything about that you know. I'm happy just being friends."

"Just to be sure, ya do realize I've got more baggage than most anyone you've ever met?"

"You told me as much, yes."

"And you're aware of what it can mean for you that I'm not human?"

"If you mean hate from idiots then I've already effectively signed up for that."

"And ya know I haven't told you everything?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

"Then if you don't mind.... Want to go out to dinner with me a couple a days from now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, my first cliffhanger. Well, sort of. It's not like you all would say no to a date with Sans. I do see him as pretty messed up after all that he's gone through, so yes, he's drowned himself in a multitude of different ways. That's what you do when you feel like that, you take any viable methods of escape you've got. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads this, to anyone who leaves kudos, and all of the lovely people who take the time to leave me such nice comments!


	13. Star Gazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've finally got your date with Sans. Now if only you can calm down and enjoy it. (Have fun, my fellow skeleton lovers.)

Obviously, you'd said yes. Two days from then finds you pacing your room, nervous and wound up. Aside from the obvious first date jitters, you had other concerns.

There were just too many questions. Sure, Sans had talked about relationships and all that, but did that mean this date was the beginning of a relationship? It wasn't like he'd acted any differently after you'd left his room that night. He'd been acting like his usual self, back to being friendly and no longer avoiding you.

And, of course, you have an ever growing list of questions about what he'd told you. It had been too much information to process quickly, but you've had nine days to mull it over and now you need more answers. You just aren't sure if you're allowed to ask. Especially considering it was supposed to be a date.

You also really wish he'd told you where the two of you were going. You'd asked, of course, but he'd just winked and told you it was a secret. The only things you'd been told were to wear comfortable shoes, bring something warm, and be ready by six.

For that matter, what would be appropriate to wear? Considering this is Sans you're talking about, surely formal clothing would be too much. Hell, anything other than your usual attire might well be overkill. But then again....

You eventually settle on clothes that can pass for semi-formal not-trying-too-hard or casual just-thought-I'd-like-to-look-nice. Now to convince yourself that you wanted to go downstairs. You'd already tipped off everyone that something was up earlier by accident. Trying to be responsible, you'd told Toriel that you and Sans weren't going to be eating with the rest at dinner. Toriel hadn't made much of a fuss, but Alphys had overheard. Being the excitable person she was, she'd told Undyne, who'd told Papyrus, and, well, everyone was now aware that neither you nor Sans were going to be there for dinner. Ferrin had been smirking at you ever since she'd heard about it.

Gotta face the firing squad sooner or later, you think as you open your door. You realize just how sweaty your palms have gotten, and wipe them off on your clothes. For that matter, you're pretty sure your heart is racing. Who would've thought it, you being this nervous over a darn skeleton. Who told bad puns. And had a really cute blushing face. An incredibly attractive skeleton. There must be something wrong with your head, honestly....

Ferrin, of course, is waiting downstairs. "Ooh, somebody's dressed up. Got a hot date?"

You're scrambling for a response when her incredulous gaze slips behind you. You turn and can't help echoing her expression.

"What, do I have something on my face?" Sans asks, grinning. He's actually dressed up - you'd almost been expecting him to be in his typical beat up jacket and shorts. Instead, he's wearing a black dress shirt, a pair of jeans, and, incredibly, sneakers.

Ferrin says what you're thinking. "Oh my god Sans, you actually own something other than shorts and hoodies?"

" 'Course I do. What, did you think I only owned one pair of clothes?"

"Kinda, yeah," Ferrin replied.

Sans snorts and rolls his eyes (eye lights?). "Gotta wear somethin' nice for my date tonight."

"Oooh," Ferrin says, face lighting up with a teasing look. "Are they hot?"

You freeze, staring at Ferrin in horror. Oh god.

"Of course! They're absolutely stunning," Sans says.

You're pretty sure your entire body is blushing. He was probably just going along with her, but still.

"Okay, so they're gorgeous, surely they must be an idiot then?"

"Nah, they're smart too."

You groan and bury your face in your hands. You can hear snickers from both of them. They were enjoying your embarrassment, darn them.

"Hmmm. So surely they've got a bad attitude then? Maybe they kick puppies for fun?"

"Nope. I've really hit the jackpot. They're incredibly attractive," he says as he puts his arm around your waist, "Brilliant, and they've got an amazing personality."

"Brother! You are embarrassing the human!" Papyrus says scoldingly.

"Nah, that's mostly my fault," Ferrin says.

"You two are awful," you groan, face still buried in your hands.

"Sorry, I couldn't pass up that kind of open door," Sans says, chuckling.

"Oh, were we talking about you?" Ferrin asks, faking innocence. "I had no idea. But if that's the case, I told you so."

"Yeah yeah yeah. You were right, now can I leave the house without you embarrassing me more?"

"Sure, I'll just keep my trap shut. But I still told you so."

Undyne and Alphys are also sitting on the couch, although they're silent. Alphys is giving you an encouraging look, while Undyne is grinning from ear to ear and giving you a thumbs up. Apparently they approve. Sans opens the door for you and you step out into the mild spring air.

"Geez, Sans, wasn't that a bit far to take a joke?" you ask as the door closes.

"If it'd been a joke then yeah, probably," he replies.

"I - Oh," you say, the blush returning to your face. He chuckles and opens the passenger side door for you. You slide in and Sans takes the driver's seat.

"Where are we going, anyways?" you say.

"Still a secret," he replies. " I think you're gonna like it though.

The surprise only lasts until you realize that you're headed for the monster's camp, although you can't imagine what he wants to show you here. He pulls into the parking lot a few minutes later. You step out of the car and he's suddenly in front of you.

"One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack," you say.

"I've got no idea what that is so I'm going to assume it's a good thing."

"If you're planning to kill me by surprising me, then yes, it is."

"I'm just good at sneakin' up on people," he says. "Now, are you gonna follow me, or are we gonna talk in the parking lot all night?"

"Oh, sorry. But I have no idea where we're going, you know."

"That's why I'm gonna lead you there. Here," he says, grabbing your hand. "Now you won't get lost."

You decide not to reply, instead enjoying being here with him. His hand is warm and smooth in your own. It's not exactly like holding a human hand, but it still feels nice.

He continues holding your hand as he leads you into the maze of tents. How he knows where he's headed is beyond you, since all of the tents look pretty much identical. Eventually Sans lets go of your hand to sweep aside the flaps of one of the tents, gesturing you inside. You murmur your thanks and duck inside. The tent is rather unlike Toriel's, the only other one you've been in. It's set up much like a bar despite the obvious limitations. Tables and chairs have been arranged around the room and tables in the back even approximate the look of a bar counter.

"Welcome to Temp Grillby's," Sans says, stepping in beside you.

"Temp?"

"Technically, it's Temporary. But I like Temp better because, well, just look behind the bar."

You follow his gaze and see exactly what he's talking about. The barkeep appears to be a being made entirely of fire. In a suit. How. Just, how.

"I can see that look in your eye. I guess you could say that your curiosity's been _sparked_ , eh?"

"How you manage to do that in any situation, I'll never understand. And yeah, I'm curious. How could I not be?"

"Fair enough. It's a pretty limited menu, you okay with a burger and fries?"

"Sounds great. Should I go get us a table?"

"Yeah, I'll be right over."

You sit down at what might be intended to mimic a booth and observe the other occupants of the tent. A group of what appear to be dogs take up the largest available table. A very drunk rabbit monster is trying to convince another only slightly less drunk monster (who appears to be mostly made of a mouth with large teeth) that they should go searching for hot guys, with minimal success. The counter is taken up by several occupants - a horse-like monster, a pair of very world weary looking birds, and, currently, Sans. It looks like he's having a conversation with the bartender. Of course, he picks the only time you're looking at him to turn around.

"What, can't keep your eyes off of me?" he asks as he slides onto the seat across from you.

"I was observing the bar, actually. And, uh, are two bottles of ketchup really necessary?"

"Well, ya see, I've actually got a real bad habit," Sans says sheepishly.

"Ohhhhh maaaan, does he -hic- ever!" exclaims a voice from behind you. The rabbit is now leaning eagerly towards the both of you.

"Oh! Sans, we didn't see you! How nice of you to join us again. Is this the human you're staying with?" one of the dogs asks, eyeing you. The rabbit turns back to their companion as they start speaking.

"Yeah, actually. This is [your name]," Sans says. The dogs all greet you, and you're only mildly surprised that part of this greeting involves sniffing you. Really, your ability to even feel surprise at this point was being severely taxed by the monsters.

"So, you were saying about your bad habits?" you ask after the greetings are over.

"I uh, kinda, maybe, ya know, drink ketchup?" Sans says, blushing.

"Oh, I knew someone in high school that did that. She actually kept a bottle in her locker. They drug her up to the office once because they thought she was lacing it with something. Nope, turns out she just really, really liked ketchup."

Sans stares at you for a second before he starts laughing. Apparently whatever you've done is hilarious, because he can't seem to stop. He's locked into a cycle of getting himself under control, looking up to your confused expression, and collapsing into laughter again.

"I can't... Oh man. You question how I can eat, but when I tell you about time travel, you're just like hey, why not. I tell you I quite literally drink ketchup, which, by the way, most people think is absolutely disgusting, and you tell me a story about some chick you knew in high school. Any other surprises for me?" he eventually asks, wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eye sockets.

"If you're so easily surprised then yeah, probably."

"Hey, I don't get to experience new things very often. I try to enjoy them when they happen."

"Speaking of new, if this is the temporary Grillby's, then was there one before it?"

"Yup, there was one underground. Remember? You said Pap mentioned it to you before."

"Yeah, I do. It seems like a nice place though, why doesn't he like it?"

"He claims it's greasy and in bad taste, but I'm pretty sure that's not the real reason. S'Probly cause I spent so much time here."

The conversation continues, moving fluidly between topics. You find yourself so wrapped up in the conversation that it feels like only moments later that the fire monster from behind the bar walks up with your food.

"Hey, Grillbz."

Grillby nods to Sans, placing the plates on the table.

"Nice, thanks. It looks as amazing as ever."

He turns to you, gesturing towards the fire monster. "This is the best bar _tinder_  you'll find above or below ground, Grillby.

How fire managed to look exasperated, you aren't sure, but Grillby pulls it off pretty well. He's also pulling off being made entirely of fire and surrounded by alcohol. Somehow. You could probably write a novel just about how many questions you have about the monsters at this point.

"Is this your host?" he asks, his voice soft and whispering.

"Yup, we're staying at their place for now. Why d'you ask?" Sans says.

"Curiosity. You have not been here as often as you were before. They must be a very good chef."

"Not at all, it's Toriel's cooking that's amazing," you protest.

"They're being modest, their cooking is great. 'Course, Tori's is better, but she's had longer to practice."

Grillby nods and leaves the two of you to your meal.

You continue talking about unimportant things, mainly enjoying each other's company. It's amazingly easy to do this, just sit here and enjoy yourself. It's probably a combination of Sans' natural confidence and your comfort around him. He makes no move to leave even once he's finished, so you don't either. By the time the two of you finally duck out of the tent among shouted goodbyes to Sans, the sky is dark.

"Alright, looks like it's time," he says.

"Time for what?" you ask. You'd figured you'd be headed home after dinner.

"You'll see," he says, turning to walk through the tents once more. You fall into step beside him, trying to muster your courage. Finally, you reach out and graze his hand with your own. His fingers curl around yours, and he glances at you for a second.

"Wasn't sure you liked this, before," he says.

"Your fingers are warm, and it's kinda chilly."

"Glad to know I can be of service."

You laugh a little bit as you follow him. Darkness had settled over the camp in the time you'd been inside. The stars were bright, the moon nearly full.

"Where are we going?" you ask as you pass the last of the tents. There's nothing in this direction except for the imposing peak of Mt. Ebbot piercing the night sky.

"You'll know when we get there, I promise," Sans says.

"For someone who enjoys shortcuts as much as you, there's a lot of walking going on here."

"Walks ain't so bad. 'Specially when you're walking with someone you like being around."

The two of you reach the top of another low hill and you can see what it is you've been brought out here for. There's a blanket laid out on the grass beside a rather official looking telescope.

"Stargazing?"

"Yeah, why, do you not like this kinda stuff?"

"I do, the stars are amazing around here. Since we're so far out from civilization, there's no light pollution or regular pollution."

"Alright, I'll bite. What the hell's light pollution?"

"You've never heard of it? It's basically just that when humans crowd together in cities they like things lit up. Unfortunately, when there's light all around you, it makes it more difficult to see other lights. So the stars are pretty much invisible unless they're really bright."

"There're places where it's so bright that you can't see the stars?" Sans asks, looking skeptical.

"Oh yeah, definitely. There are cities so bright in the middle of the night that you'd think the sun was coming up. Made that mistake once. Of course, it was really late and I was exhausted, but it was pretty darn bright."

"You humans do the strangest things. With a sky like this, why block it out?"

"Fear. Originally, probably fear of hungry wild animals. 'Course, that was back when we still used fire for light. Nowadays, it's fear of each other."

"Huh. Well, at any rate, the sky is nice and clear. And, there's a meteor shower goin' on tonight."

He's obviously planned this, and you can't help but feel flattered. Whatever else Sans is, he isn't someone who put a lot of effort into things. That he'd do so much for you, well, it's nothing short of amazing.

He lays on his back on the blanket and pats the space beside him. You join him, looking up at the sky. When his fingers thread through yours, you glance over to discover he's studying the stars. Small white streaks are already making their way through the sky above you.

"You really like the stars, huh?" you ask.

"Definitely. There wasn't anythin' like this back underground. One of the caves was supposed to look somewhat like this but man, it didn't even come close."

"The sky is a pretty amazing thing."

"Yeah, it's the thing I miss the most. When we're pulled back underground, I mean."

"Is it really so different up here? Aren't there good things down there too?"

"Yeah, it is. The only sky we have underground is the rock ceiling. The air up here is so much fresher than it is down there. Ya know, the first thing we saw when we got up here for the first time was the sun. I had to go back inside for a sec it was just so much to take in. The underground.... well, it's a small place. Up here, it feels like you're free. 'Course, there're good things down there too. Grillby's, for one. The house Pap and I live in. Predictably constant weather. But if I had to choose... Heck, if any of us had to choose, I think we'd decide to be up here."

"Uh, Sans, what are you doing?"

"Oh, uh...."

During his entire speech, his hand had been evaluating yours. It hadn't been uncomfortable, but he'd been tracing your knuckles, feeling how your flesh moves. Towards the last part, he'd started prodding at your wrist. He pulls his hand back like he's been burnt and raises himself up onto his elbow.

"Sorry, I was just wonderin'... That da-dum sound, can it be, ya know, felt? I heard it before when we were sleeping together, and then just now I thought I could feel it in your hand."

You laugh as you prop yourself up like he is and grab his hand.

"You should've just told me that's what you wanted," you say. "That's my heartbeat. Here, you'll have a lot more luck finding it if you do this."

You move closer to him, then bring his hand up towards your throat. A quick check tells you where to put his hand, and you press two of his fingers into the flesh of your neck. He looks utterly fascinated. He leans closer to you and closes his eyes, apparently concentrating. You can't help it - you laugh again, causing him to pull his fingers back in surprise.

"That's... strange," he says.

"Yup. It's pretty cool though."

"Do you mind if I...?"

You shake your head no, and move your chin up so he has easier access to your pulse. He reaches out on his own this time, fingers fumbling just a bit before he finds your pulse again. He closes his eyes again, and you take the time to observe him. The bone of his face is a little wrinkled where you suppose his eyebrows would be, like a human's would be if they were concentrating. It's an endearing expression.

"You're that fascinated, huh?" you ask eventually.

"Yeah. Human bodies aren't much like monster bodies. The whole skeleton under all a this," he says, gesturing at you, "Is still hard to believe too."

"You know you were feeling my bones before, right?"

"What?" he says, startled.

"Yup. The bumps you were rubbing in my hands are my knuckles, just like yours. Well, with some other stuff over them."

"I mean. That makes sense, I guess... Can it be felt anywhere else?" He looks utterly fascinated, and you realize you're not the only one who's been holding back questions.

"Yeah, of course. My jaw, my elbows, my knees, my eye sockets, places like that."

"Seriously?"

"Yup. If you'd like I can show you."

"I mean, if you're okay with it, yeah."

You nod and grab his hand again. You bring it up from your neck to your jaw, leaving his fingers on the hinge of your jaw near your ear. He shifts until he's sitting and moves nearer, face close to yours.

"Damn, you weren't kidding," he says as he brings his other hand up to feel both sides of your jaw.

"Of course not. Am I really that interesting?"

"Yeah, you are," he says softly.

You're suddenly very aware of just how close the two of you are - between his fascination and your own amusement, you hadn't even noticed. The sudden blush on his cheek bones tells you that he hadn't noticed either. You look away, embarrassed, and, seeing the meteors, are reminded of why you're actually here.

"Oh, we're missing the meteor shower," you say, hoping to dispel the awkwardness.

He flicks his gaze upwards and then right back at you. "Yup. I know this's our first date n'all, but... d'ya think you'd mind if I stole a kiss right about now?"

"I - I mean, i-if that's what you want?"

"S'not what I asked."

"I um, I think would like that, very much."

He closes his eyes and leans forward until the distance between your faces is almost nonexistent. He pauses there, waiting for you to close the distance, giving you the chance to change your mind. So you finish the movement, leaning forward until your lips touch him. It's a little bit weird, not much like any other kisses you've ever given or received. After all, he doesn't have lips. But the warm happiness in your chest is more than enough.

You pull back feeling giddy. Sans opens one eye, his grin somehow wider than before.

"Sorry, I'm a pretty bad kisser," he jokes.

"I thought you did fine," you reply, probably grinning just as widely.

He chuckles and looks up at the sky. "Dang, they're beautiful."

You lean up against him, wrapping his hand in yours. "Yeah, they are."

The meteor shower is beautiful, and when Sans adjusts the telescope so you can watch, you find yourself amazed that you've never bothered to do this before. A whole lifetime of living under this sky, and it takes someone who's only been able to appreciate it for a few months to remind you how beautiful it is. You don't want to leave, and by the time the both of you finally make it back to the house you're both yawning widely.

"Did ya have a good time?" Sans asks as he parks the car.

"I had a great time. Thank you for taking me out on this date, I don't know how I'm going to beat this."

"Beat it?"

"Yup, I have to show you an even better time on our second date."

"So you do want to go out with me again?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, it's the first time I've been on a date in a pretty long time, and I just took you to do somethin' I love. Glad to hear you enjoyed it."

"I mean, it's up to you. If you want to though, I'd love to go on another date with you. About three days from now?"

"Just let me check my busy schedule," he says, snorting. "Yeah, looks like I'll be available."

"Good. Before we go inside though, do you mind if I kiss you again?"

He chuckles and twists in his seat so he's facing you. "Not at all."

You lean forward, put your arms around his shoulders, and kiss him. He leans into your lips, probably his best method of reciprocating. His arms slide around your waist. He's the one who pulls away first, just far enough to look at you.

"Thank you," he says.

"Uh... for what?"

"For helpin' me realize there're opportunities I don't wanna miss. Even if everythin' reset right now, I don't think I'd be angry with myself for tonight."

"In that case, I'd better thank you too. That must've taken a lot of courage."

"Nah, just a desire to feel alive again."

He presses his teeth to your forehead and steps out of the car. You follow him inside as silently as possible.

As you enter the living room, you see Ferrin and Papyrus are asleep on the couch with the TV on. You assume that they were waiting for the two of you to get back. Sans pulls the blanket over the both of them before you both head upstairs and into your rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a sinner someone send help. I hope you all enjoy this, cause I'm goin' to hell for it.
> 
> Nah, seriously though, this was fun to write. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, even if I can feel my sins crawling up my back. The touching stuff wasn't sexual, by the way - just genuine curiosity about your body. I mean, monsters just aren't built the way humans are, makes sense he'd be curious.
> 
> I've just gotta say, I'm liking my mental image of dressed up Sans. Maybe too much. How the heck is a skeleton attractive, huh? I need some answers.


	14. Soul Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure, you can use magic - or, well, you can if you can figure out how. Luckily, you've got friends there to help you. Mostly just some development of things that are going to be crucial to the plot later on.

"Wakey wakey!" A voice says, breaking through your pleasant dream. The lights come on in your room and you groan, covering your eyes.

"No way in hell are you allowed to go back to sleep," Ferrin says, prying your arm away from your face.

"Why no'? S'too early t'be 'wake...." you mutter.

"Actually it's nearly ten, but that's beside the point. How'd it go? I can't believe I fell asleep before you got home!"

"Mmmph," you groan, rolling over.

Ferrin laughs. "Come on, sleepy head, get up and tell me about your date!"

Remembering last night you can't help but smile a bit. "It was great, now lemme go back to bed."

"Nuh uh, I need details! Where'd you go? Did you have a good time? Did you guys, ya know?"

"Jesus christ, it was our first date, of course not!" you reply, laughing.

"Good. Now, details!"

You cave in, giving up on sleeping to tell her what she wants to know. You tell her about Grillby's in detail, doing your best to describe the monsters you'd met. She's fascinated, wondering aloud if she could convince someone to take her there. The meteor shower, star gazing until late into the night, arriving home to find her waiting on the couch with Papyrus, you skim over at of it, just enough so she has an idea of what went on.

"Hmmm. Alright, I admit I'm impressed. You have my permission."

"Uhh... Your permission to do what?"

"Keep dating him, of course!"

"Wha - Ferrin, I don't need your permission to do that," you say, laughing.

"Of course you do! As your sister it is my god given right to prevent you from dating people who don't deserve you."

"Well, I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that my mother says I can date him."

"Ha ha, very funny. That's all I needed to know, you can go back to sleep now," she says, standing up. "Oh, and, uh.... You might want to be careful, Undyne's got something important to tell you."

"Uh, what?"

"No clue, sorry. All I know is she looked really, really enthusiastic about it."

"I hope they don't want to use the kitchen again," you say, shuddering. Undyne and Papyrus had made several more dinners for everyone since the first time, and each time had been a narrow escape from disaster. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy watching the catastrophe, but it was only a matter of time before someone got seriously hurt.

"No idea. See you downstairs," Ferrin says, closing the door behind her.

 

 

\----------------------------

 ****  


"You finally decide to show your face, eh?" Undyne demands as soon as you get into the living room.

"Yup. 'Morning everybody," you reply, yawning. Everybody consists of pretty much everyone who lives in the house except for Sans, who you assume must still be asleep. He doesn't often sleep in, but when he does he tends to leave his room exceptionally late.

"Human!" Papyrus exclaims, standing and posing dramatically. "You have been given the supreme honor of an offer to train with the former Captain of the Royal Guard, the King himself, and even I, the great Papyrus!"

"Hey! I wanted to be the one to tell them," Undyne says, scowling.

"Ah! My apologies, Undyne," Papyrus says.

"Oh well. So, [your name], you up for it? You're well enough to be going on dates, after all," Undyne says, grinning.

"I mean sure, I guess? But why do you want me to train with you all of the sudden?" you ask.

"I would like to observe your magic for myself," Asgore says. "If you do not mind, of course."

"Nah, not a problem. I'm ready whenever you all are."

"Just a moment, please. I would like to change into something more appropriate for exercise," Asgore says.

He leaves the room and you head into the kitchen to get something to eat. You're fishing through the fridge for the coffee creamer when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

"Human, I would like to speak with you," Papyrus says. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet, like he's trying not to be heard.

"Sure thing Papyrus, what's up?"

"It is about you and my brother. You two are dating now, yes?"

"I guess we are, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"I wished to verify that before I told you this. My brother.... he is very adept at acting as though nothing is wrong, but I do notice these things. For the last half year or so, he has been much lazier than normal. At first I believed that it was simply laziness, but it did not go away. He would rarely be home, avoid interacting with people, drink far more than before, react strangely to things. This past month, however, he's been better. Whether that has to do with being aboveground or other factors I am not quite sure. He even put in effort yesterday for your date."

Papyrus pauses, looking at you. You're pretty sure you know where this is going, so you wait for him to continue.

"Sans is an adult and he is more than capable of handling himself. However, let me warn you," he continues, and you catch a glimpse of orange glow in his eye socket. "If you hurt my brother, I will... be very disappointed in you!"

You'd been prepared for a threat, so it takes you a moment to process his words. When it finally hits you, you have to bite your lip to avoid laughing. Why you'd expected anything else from Papyrus you aren't sure.

"I promise not to hurt Sans," you say.

"Good! I am glad that this has been cleared up, human! I will see you outside!" he declares, exiting the kitchen.

You shake your head, but it's sweet really. The brothers love each other a lot, that much is clear.

 

\------------------------

 

"Okay, so what would you like me to do?" you ask.

"Well, first we will need to see your soul. May I?" Asgore asks.

"Feel free."

He extends his arm and makes the now familiar gesture, drawing your soul out of your chest. The glass like case around it is much thinner than the first time you'd seen it.

"Hmmm. Interesting," Asgore says, looking at it.

"So that's their magic? How wimpy!" Undyne laughs. "It isn't even a weapon or anything!"

"That is true, but defense is of at least equal importance as offence. Specialists in the defensive magics have proved very worthy adversaries in the past. It was not an offensive specialist who sealed the underground, after all," Asgore says.

You're not sure how he can say that without malice. "Wait, somebody like me put up the barrier that stuck you guys down there?"

"No, they were nothing like you. They were unnecessarily cruel. Their magic was never used except to the inconvenience and pain of others," he says, face dark. "Oh! I mean, of course, that the history books say so. I never met them myself."

"So it isn't completely pathetic?" Undyne asks.

"Hey, I like my magic. It saved my hide," you grumble.

Undyne laughs. "Sure, whatever. It's still super lame! I mean, just look at my magic!"

She summons a spear to demonstrate, chucking it as hard as she can towards the forest around the house. It lodges itself firmly into a tree before vanishing completely.

"Now that is cool! Yours can't do that!" she says.

"I mean, no, I can't. I'm actually not sure that anyone other than you could land a hit from this distance," you say. Undyne grins proudly.

"Forgive my interruption, but does it seem to you that your magical shield is thinner than previously?" Asgore asks.

"I was thinking the same thing actually," you admit. "Could it be left over from using it before?"

"No, or at least, it should not be. You have had plenty of time to renew your magical energy. Perhaps there is another reason," Asgore says.

"Brother! Have you been asleep this entire time?" Papyrus shouts from where he's finishing his assigned pushups, and you turn to see that Sans has indeed just left the back door.

"Yup," he replies, grinning as usual. "So, what's goin' on?

"We are trying to figure out how [your name]'s magic works," Asgore says.

"S'pretty simple, right? It's a shield," Sans says, observing your soul.

"That is what I think, yes. However, we would like to know, not assume."

"We could always test it," Undyne says, hoisting a spear.

She makes a sudden stab towards your soul and you react instinctively. The clear shield around your soul becomes thicker in an instant, nearly four times it's original size. Undyne's spear, of course, stops short by more than half a foot. She's grinning, obviously pleased with herself.

"Was that entirely necessary?" you ask, looking at her in exasperation.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it? Now we know why it was like that!" Undyne says.

"Undyne. That was not the appropriate method of testing their magic," Asgore says, looking at her strictly. She ducks her head just a bit before he turns back to you. "Your shield corresponds directly to your emotions, it would appear."

"Isn't all magic like that?" you ask.

"Sorta. Depends on who's usin' it," Sans says.

"Huh. So, do you think I could use it on someone else?" you ask.

Undyne grins. "Well, we could always find out," she says, summoning another spear.

You eye it warily. "You're not planning to use that on me, are you?"

"Nah, I was thinking more along the lines of jabbing Sans a few times to see if your magic could protect him," she says.

"How's about no?" Sans says.

"Yeah, not too fond of that one myself," you say. "Isn't there a better way to test it?"

"Perhaps if you simply try to use it on Sans without placing him in danger?" Asgore suggests.

"Can't hurt to try," you say. Definitely a better option than having Undyne throw spears around. She might mean well, but she could be a little.... over enthusiastic.

"Ughh, boring! I'm gonna go train with Papyrus, see you nerds later," Undyne says, leaving to do just that.

You consider your soul for a moment. The clear shield surrounding it had gone back to being rather thin. "Asgore, you said that my magic was defensive, right?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Before, Sans said that everybody has numerical values for their attack, defense, those kinds of things. So do you think the shield magic affects that?"

"It is certainly possible," Asgore says, looking thoughtfully at your soul. "We could always check, if you do not mind."

"No, not at all. I'm actually kind of curious," you admit.

Asgore makes a gesture with his hand similar to the one used to draw your soul out. You hear what sounds like a beep and you see white words hovering in front of you.

 

 

**[Your Name]**

**LV  1**

**HP  10 / 10**

**AT  3                       EXP:  0**

**DF  200                   NEXT: 10**

  


 

Sans lets out a whistle, staring at what you can only think of as your stats. It's a little bit weird, having these things pop up in front of you like this. Magic is a strange thing, you think.

"Alright, I'll admit I have no idea what any of that translates to," you say.

"You have.... abnormally high defense," Asgore says, staring at the number.

"Oh come on, it can't be that high, can it? I mean, my LV is too low for impressive stats."

Sans' eyes snap towards you. You can't tell if you're imagining the falter in his smile.

"What?" you ask, puzzled. "My LV is pretty low. I mean, I kinda figured it would be since I don't do much, but I was hoping for at least a five or so, ya know? Maybe I can raise it somehow."

Both of the monsters start, staring at you in horror.

"What did I say?" you ask, frowning.

Sans and Asgore glance at each other. They look... tense? Worried? You aren't sure, but you don't like it.

"What.... what d'you think LV means, exactly?" Sans asks.

"I've only ever seen it in games, so based on that I'm gonna guess it means level?"

He continues looking at you like he's expecting you to say more. When you only stare back at him in confusion, he says, "Level of what?"

"Huh. I'd never actually thought about that one," you say. "No idea."

"In your.... games, how does one gain LV?" Asgore asks.

"By fighting, usually. You knock out your opponents and you get to level up. But I mean, there're plenty of games where you don't have to fight to gain levels. Like in the Sims, you gain levels by repeatedly doing the same tasks. So I'd have a high level in writing, since that's basically all I do all day. Or by training like Papyrus and Undyne to raise it."

Both of them look relieved, oddly enough.

"Okay, I'm missing something here, what's going on?" you ask.

"We aren't talkin' about the same thing. Training won't raise your LV, that's for sure. Ya see that LV right there? It doesn't stand for level, it stands for LOVE," Sans says.

"Isn't love a good thing?" you ask.

"The love you're thinking of is. You're thinking of lowercase love. LOVE, what I'm talkin' about, it's an acronym. Stands for Level of Violence," Sans informs you.

It's your turn to stare at him in surprise. "You're kidding?"

"Nope. LV stands for Level of Violence, and EXP stands for Execution Points. You gain EXP by killing, and you gain LV by having enough EXP," he says.

You can feel yourself growing pale, and you look back at your stats. "I take it back, I'm very, very glad that my LV is so low."

"As are we," Asgore says.

"Sorry, I didn't realize," you say.

"Don't worry 'bout it, we know you didn't mean that you wanted that kind of LV," Sans says.

"Geez. So, does DF stand for something equally horrifying?"

"Nah, that's your defense. AT's attack, just like you'd expect," Sans says.

"So what's normal for defense, if mine is high?"

"To put it inta perspective for ya... Asgore here has the highest defense of anybody aside from you that I know of, and his is eighty," Sans says.

You feel your jaw drop as your gaze flicks back to your stats. "You're kidding."

"No, he is not. As I said, your defense is abnormally high. Perhaps the highest even I have seen," Asgore admits.

"So what, I'd only take a little bit of damage in a fight?" you ask.

"Maybe. S'what happened when you got stabbed, after all. And this's your defense when you aren't in danger," Sans says.

"That's pretty darn useful. Maybe I do want to train up my magic," you say.

"Certainly. If Sans is willing to assist, perhaps you could attempt to share your magic with him?" Asgore asks. Your stats disappear at another movement from him.

"I'm up for doin' nothing," Sans says.

"Alright, how do I do this?"

"Just try reaching out with your magic," Asgore says.

 

\------------------------

 

Twenty minutes later, you're still sitting there trying to do just that. Sans has already made what feels like a thousand terrible jokes about your lack of success, apparently thoroughly amused by your efforts. Probably because they mainly consist of you trying to imagine sending something out of your soul towards him. You'd accidentally sent your soul in his direction more than once, but that had achieved nothing. Asgore, on the other hand, had refused to let you give up, even though he's currently refereeing a match between Undyne and Papyrus.

"I'm beginning to think this isn't gonna work," you say.

"Probly not," Sans agrees.

"I wonder how I got it to work before?"

"You weren't usin' it on someone else. And ya actually had a reason to use it."

"Yeah, probably. That was pretty scary."

"Yup. I can only imagine what woulda happened if ya hadn't been there."

You stiffen. It's really not something you want to think about. "Nothing. You guys would've been fine."

He shrugs. "I dunno 'bout that. There've been timelines where we died 'cause of things like that."

"How can you say that so calmly?" you ask, concern rising.

"S'not like it hasn't happened a buncha times already. Ya get used to it eventually. I remember one time, we'd just gotten down the from the mountain. The stars were startin' to come out, it was breathtaking. The grass is different up here too, everybody was still in shock. Then, all of a sudden, we heard shouting. Turns out we'd walked near where some humans were camping. They were out on a hunting trip, I guess, and instead they found us. They had these guns, you've seen 'em before right? Undyne was the first to go, got her right in the chest, pretty sure they hit her soul."

You feel fear for your friends rise in your chest, nearly choking you. This was the past, sure, but there were still dangerous humans around. They'd proved that a few days ago.

"Alphys just froze up, still not sure if she died that night or if they overlooked her. Then again, don't really matter. We all ran in different directions, just tryin' to get away. I was confused, ended up runnin' towards them instead of away. Last thing I remember was feeling something cold and hard pressed up to my skull, then an ear splitting noise for just a second before I woke up in my bed again."

You're desperately trying not to imagine it, but you can't get the image out of your head.

"And, ya know, it could happen again. Right now, even. Just a big group with guns, right outta- "

You can't stop yourself imagining the situation, adding details. Screams of pain, bodies falling to the ground. You're afraid for them all, and you find yourself desperately wishing to protect your friends. They can't die, you aren't going to allow them to die again. Somehow, your magic responds to your thoughts. Sans stops speaking, eyes widening as it reaches out towards him and latches on. But it doesn't stop there. It envelops Undyne and Papyrus, grabs Asgore, and even goes inside, reaching for the souls there. For an instant, you can feel everyone's souls, warm and safe, protected by your magic. You hear and feel Sans' concern as he shouts, telling you to stop. His warning is a moment too late, and your head swims before blackness takes over your vision.

 

\------------------------------

 

You wake up on your couch, everyone crowded around you.

"What just happened?" you groan.

"Sans figured out how to get you to use your magic, and you did something stupid with it," Ferrin says. Despite the harshness of her words, she looks worried. You really need to stop doing this, you think.

"Sorry 'bout that," Sans says sheepishly. "I figured if it was triggered by your emotions then I could just kinda make you want to use it. It worked. Just, uh, a little too well."

"I'm not freezing like last time though. Shouldn't I be out of magic?" you say.

"You're fine 'cause I gave you some more a mine," Sans says.

"I apologize. We pushed you too hard," Asgore says.

"No, Asgore, it's my fault," you reassure him. "I should've been more careful. Sorry for worrying you guys."

You sit up to show them that you're alright. You do feel fine, perhaps a little weaker than usual but otherwise no worse for wear.

"So what did I do anyways?" you ask.

"Near as we can tell, you sent that shield stuff out to everybody to protect them," Undyne says.

"It was weird, like I could feel everybody's souls all at once," you confess.

"That is because you could," Asgore says. "We could also feel your soul. You were very afraid for our safety, I think."

"Sorry," Sans says again.

"No need to apologize," you say. "I'm the one who messed up. And, hey, it worked!"

"Maybe we should stop the training for today," Asgore suggests.

"Yeah, probably for the best," you agree.

As everyone else heads back to what they're doing, Sans gives you a look of concern.

"You really sure you're alright?" he asks.

"One hundred percent. Thanks for helping me."

"Helpin' you to black out?"

"Of course not. Helping me figure out how to protect other people, of course."

"All I really did was tell you a shitty story."

".... That wasn't made up, was it."

"Nope."

"Damn," you say. "Humans suck."

"Not all a them. There're some pretty amazin' ones."

You look over to see him watching you with an expression of admiration. You blush and stand up.

"I'm gonna go watch them finish training," you say, walking over to the door.

Sans appears by the door, holding it open for you. "Mind if I come along?"

"Of course not."

The two of you end up watching Undyne and Papyrus spar. Asgore has several comments on their fighting styles and it's fascinating to watch them adjust themselves to meet his direction, especially Undyne. It's apparent that she respects him a great deal.

You feel like you've learned a bit by the time you make it back inside. Not enough to survive a fight with either of them, of course, but enough to have been interesting. Then again, why would you ever have to fight them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've really gotta stop passing out man. Also, I wasn't the only one who was shocked when Sans was all like "Yeah man, good job on not getting LV, since it literally stands for murdering innocents in cold blood. Knew you could do it buddy. A+ job.", right? I mean, damn. I'm figuring I'm not alone there, most people would think the same. So we've got a bit of a miscommunication with our buddies, but it's okay. They love you anyways.


	15. Lakeside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans has taken you on a date - now it's your turn. Basically just a great deal of cute fluff alongside some minor, minor plot bits.

It’s finally your turn to take Sans on a date, and you have everything planned out. You hadn't told him anything - partially in a revenge of sorts, but also because you think he'll like the surprise. He might have guessed something close to the truth when you'd asked him to wear something he can swim in though.

"Gonna tell me where we’re goin’?" Sans asks again as you get into the car together.

"That's still a secret," you reply, grinning. “It's a pretty long drive though, I hope that's okay.”

“Nah, that's fine. I'll catch up on some sleep, s’long as you don't mind,” he replies, yawning widely.

“Feel free, I'll wake you up when we get there,” you reply. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him nod and settle down into a more comfortable position before closing his eyes.

You frown and glance at him in concern once you know he won't see. Unless it's your imagination, the circles under his eyes actually look darker than usual. That probably means he’d spent another restless night kept awake by his nightmares. Unlike Frisk, who still climbs into your bed almost nightly, Sans refuses to go to you for help. You hadn't really expected him to, of course. He's spent a long time keeping his secrets. Too long to just up and change overnight, and you're okay with that, even if you are dating now. He certainly doesn't have to tell you everything he's held back immediately. You do wish he'd let you take some of the weight off of his shoulders though.

At least the nightmares explain why he naps so often during the day. The obvious explanation was that he just never slept, since his nightmares kept him up. They woke him up and sent him into a panic, probably leaving him unable to sleep for the rest of the night. That also tells you why someone as lazy as Sans would generally be up early in the morning. However, the less obvious explanation for the naps - or, well, this was your theory at least - had to do with sleep cycles. You'd done some online research and found a few interesting facts. Dreams only occur during REM sleep, which starts in humans (and, you assume, monsters) about ninety minutes after they fall asleep. So if Sans wanted to avoid dreaming, taking a lot of short naps made sense. You hadn't asked him, and you got the feeling that if you did he'd brush off your concern and claim that he was just lazy and you were reading too much into it. Always a possibility, of course, but you can't help it. You're worried about him.

The drive lasts about two hours, rather lengthy, but in your opinion worthwhile. Sans naps almost the entire time, only waking up as you pull into the gravel beside the spot you've picked out. You wait for his reaction as he looks out of the window.

"A lake, huh?" he asks.

"Yup! My parents used to take Ferrin and I up here during school vacations. It's a nice place."

"Looks like it," he agrees, opening the door.

You follow him out and stretch, glad to be out of the car. You open the trunk and pull out everything you've brought for the day - towels, a basket of food for lunch, water bottles, and sunscreen.

The lake itself is an incredibly beautiful one that is just far enough out of the way that few to no people ever visit. It's not incredibly high up, but the higher altitude means that it gets pretty cold at night. Surrounded by trees with no towns nearby, it's just secluded enough that you feel safe bringing Sans here.

You haven't been here in a while, but it's just as beautiful as you remember. The water is relatively clear and clean, a pretty shade of blue. The light reflected off of it is shimmering on the underside of the pier that some unnamed person had built years before. The shore is covered in soft white sand that gives way under your sandals. Grass and shrubbery grows interspersed among the trees, whose leaves were just barely shifting from the soft yellow green of spring to the deeper shades of summer. Over all, you couldn't have asked for a more beautiful place for a date.

The two of you walk down to the shore line together and you lay out the supplies. Some combination of the highly reflective lake water and the altitude makes for some nasty burns if you don't apply sunscreen, so you resign yourself to your fate. You're already wearing your swimsuit underneath, so you strip off your shirt to reach the skin underneath when you get there.

You notice Sans watching you and laugh. "Never seen someone put on sunscreen before, huh?"

"Never. What does it do?"

"Humans can get burns from being out in the sun too much. So we put this on our skin to prevent that."

He looks at you with an expression that tells you he's halfway sure that you're lying. "Seriously?"

"Yup."

"That's the strangest thing you've told me so far. You sure you guys shouldn't a been the ones underground?"

You laugh and say, "You've gotta stop being surprised by such little things. Mind helping me out?"

You offer him the sunscreen and he takes it. You shiver as he presses some of the cold substance to your back and he instantly pulls his hand back.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Nah, it's just cold.”

He touches you again, doing his best to spread the sunscreen over your exposed back. When he's done he hands the sunscreen back to you, and you toss it down onto the towel.

“Want to go for a swim?” you ask.

“Sure, ready whenever you are,” he replies. While you hadn't been looking he'd taken off his shirt, the bare bones of his rib cage and spine a stark contrast to his dark shorts. Not, of course, that you were looking.

“Then let's go!” you shout.

You run across the pier and jump off into the water. It's cool against your skin, but not unpleasantly so. You pop back out of the water and brush your hair back, grinning up at Sans. He'd followed your run at an ambling pace, coming up to the edge of the pier as you tread water further out.

"Come on, aren't you gonna join me?" you ask.

You think you can see a mischievous grin just before he jumps in, and you yelp as the water splashes onto your face. You wait for Sans to resurface for a minute, then start looking around for him. He's nowhere to be seen. Wait, can Sans even swim? Does bone float? What if he hadn't told you he wasn't able to because he'd been embarrassed? You twist and dive towards the spot where he'd leapt in. You can somewhat see him from where you are, a vague white shape in the mud.

Swimming forward towards the murk that had risen when he'd hit the ground, you realize you'd been worried for no reason. He's grinning smugly and waving at you from where he's laying in the mud. You should've known, you think, rolling your eyes at him before coming up for air. As you dive back down, you can see him still looking at you smugly. You point at him then point upwards. He just shrugs and shakes his head, then makes a V with his fingers and jabs them towards his neck. Two possible meanings in ASL, but you assume he just means he's stuck. The other was, to say the least, highly unlikely. You roll your eyes at him again and point towards the shore, which is less than thirty feet from the two of you.

He grins and in what is probably one of the strangest scenes you've ever seen, pulls himself out of the muck and actually walks along the lake bed, sending up poofs of murk into the water with every step. You swim alongside him, watching in fascination. It would probably look like a scene out of a horror movie if it wasn't for the fact you know him so well. The slight shake of his ribcage from his laughter helps too, of course. He stops walking as he gets high enough for his head and shoulders to clear the water.

"That was great, your expression was - hey!" he says, still laughing even as he looks at you indignantly after you splash him.

"Hey nothing, you jerk!" you reply, laughing despite yourself. "I thought you were drowning!"

"I don't have lungs, how the heck would I drown?"

"Somehow, I don't know!"

"I'm here and not drowned, s'all fine. Did ya really think I was gonna float? I'm a skeleton, remember?"

"Papyrus said it would be fine," you admit.

"I mean, I like water well enough but nah, I can't really swim. But I can do this," he says, splashing you.

"Oh, it's on," you say, grinning.

The splash war lasts for a long time before you duck under water and retreat. "Alright, alright you win!" you say, treading water at a safe distance.

"That's cheating," he says back, but he's laughing.

The two of you retire to lay on the towels and eat lunch. Afterwards you 'swim' together, which really consists of him walking along the bottom while you swim next to him. The two of you stay close to the shore, mostly for your benefit. Although you're pretty sure going too deep would be uncomfortable for Sans, since he wouldn't be able to see and the pressure might cause him difficulties. He seems amused by your need for air, and it's fascinating watching him stroll along the mud and rocks of the lake floor. You aren't exactly fluent in sign language, but the two of you manage to communicate anyways. It helps that Sans is willing to finger spell for you when you don't understand. You eventually tell him that you need a break, and the two of you head back to the shore.

"So you don't need any air, huh?" you ask as you lay down on the towel.

"Nah. Technically, neither does any other monster. We developed the habit back when monsters and humans lived together and it just kinda got passed down."

"Weird," you reply, taking his hand in your own.

"Sunscreen," is his only reply, and you laugh.

You can feel his fingers in your own, so you decide to indulge your curiosity subtly. You move your fingers along his, rubbing at his knuckles the same way he'd touched yours.

"D'you find my hands that interesting?" he asks.

"Yeah, sorry," you say, sheepishly removing your hand from his so you can sit up. You stretch, feeling and hearing your joints pop. Sans jumps just a bit at the sound.

"Uh, I'm guessin' that's normal?" he asks, looking at you with concern.

"Huh? Oh, you mean my joints popping? Yeah, that's normal. I guess yours wouldn't do that," you say, laughing.

"Probly don't have the necessary bits for it, no," he replies, wrapping his fingers around yours again.

You turn over onto your stomach, scooting closer to him. Your wet hair sends water droplets down your back and chest as you bring your entwined hands up to eye level. Now that you look closely, his finger bones aren't even connected. There's just blank space in between each joint, although you suppose that's probably a part of his invisible body.

"What, didn't get enough earlier?" he asks, looking up at you in amusement.

"Yeah actually."

He chuckles at your honesty. "You can play with them if ya want."

You decide to do just that, removing your hand from his so you can study it better. You bring his hand to your face and discover that you can see through the small gaps. You pull on the tip of one flange just a bit and release his hand entirely in surprise. It hadn't just moved his finger - the piece you'd pulled on had actually pulled away from the rest of his hand, leaving a larger than usual gap.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry, did that hurt you?” you ask, worried.

Sans laughs and says, "Not at all. What, didn't expect that?"

"Of course not! Hands do not do that!"

"I beg to differ," he says, grinning wider.

You huff and grab his hand. You pull on it again, watching as it moves further apart. You don't go very far, maybe half an inch, before his hand twitches just a bit.

You look at him questioningly and he says, “Sorry, shoulda mentioned, it does get uncomfortable right about there.”

You nod and go back to investigating his hand. The space in between his bones where a human palm would be has what feels like a soft, flexible membrane connecting the bones to each other. It doesn't feel quite like flesh, but it's close. Probably the invisible body he'd mentioned before, you think. After all, a hand entirely made of fingers wouldn't be particularly useful. You bring a soft part of your hand to one of his finger joints and attempt to pinch your skin between his fingers, but it proves impossible. Stranger and stranger.

“Is all of you connected by magic?” you ask.

“The joints between the bones, yeah.”

“What about the rest of you? I mean, I can feel your ‘stomach’ when I hug you, so do you have organs too?”

“Nah, no need. Monster bodies turn whatever you put in ‘em into energy almost instantly," he replies. "As for my stomach, let's just say I've got excess energy that needs to be gotten rid of, and materializing that uses up just the right amount."

“All that saved up energy from being lazy?” you ask teasingly.

“I do enjoy being bone idle,” he says, winking.

“Okay, your hands, those make sense. But if you're made of bone, how do you do that?"

"I'm made of magic, remember? 'Course I can move my face. Here," he says, moving your hands from his hand to touch the space above his eye socket. It feels different than you'd expected, not quite soft, but certainly firmer than your skin is. He moves his eyebrows and you can feel it move under your fingers.

"Alright, I give up, apparently monsters just don't have to make sense," you say, earning you laughter from Sans.

"Considering how confusing we find humans, you've got to expect this kinda stuff," he says.

"I mean, I know that. I guess I already should've known you could move your face too, it's just that human skeletons don't do that. Our bones aren't that flexible."

"Yeah, but I'm not a human skeleton, I'm a skeleton monster made mostly of magic."

"Now that I think about it, if you can materialize a stomach, can you do anything else?"

His grin gets wider and for just a second his left eye lights up. A glow settles behind his teeth, and he brings your hand down to touch his teeth before a glowing, bright blue tongue darts out and licks the palm of your hand. You yip, pulling your hand back in surprise, and he laughs at your reaction.

"Oh my god Sans, you have a tongue?"

"If I want to, yeah," he replies, grinning smugly.

"Mind if I.....?"

"Feel free."

Your hands reach out and explore his face. You run your fingers across his cheekbones, carefully touch the spot where his nose would be if he had one. You explore his jaw, a feeling similar to your own but also different. The bags under his eyes feel like the rest of him, you discover. For a moment, you wonder what would happen if you put your fingers inside of his eye sockets. Of course you'd never do it, but you can't help but be curious. Certainly there wouldn't be eyes there, but could you then reach into his head? You shake off the thought and reach gentle fingers out to his teeth. They remind you of your own, slightly larger flat front teeth, sharp canines, wide molars.

"You might not be a human skeleton, but you certainly resemble one," you remark.

Sans shrugs, probably to avoid biting you on accident. He opens his mouth just a bit, inviting you to explore further. You do, fingertips brushing up against his summoned tongue. It's warm and wet, somehow. You aren't sure where it ends, because you can feel that there's nothing under his chin except empty space. Again, exactly like a human skull. Curiosity satisfied, you bring your hands back onto the towel.

"So, d'you mind if I do the same?" he asks, eyes alight with curiosity.

You nod, and his fingers come up to gently touch your skin. He investigates your forehead, moving your skin to see how it folds and wrinkles. His hands go lower, manipulating your nose.

"That," he says, touching the bridge of your nose, "Feels like bone, but the rest of its made a cartilage, right? Somebody mentioned that once, sorta like bone but more moveable?"

“Yup. It's on my ears too."

You can see the curiosity flare in his eyes as he moves your hair aside to inspect your ears. He rolls them between his fingers, folding them, gently tugging on your earlobes. Once he's satisfied there, he moves back to your face, feeling the hard ridges of bone around your eyes. He seems to be most fascinated by the bones of your face. He glances at you as his fingers move to your mouth, prodding your lips gently. For a moment, he pulls them away and replaces them with his mouth in his version of a kiss. He pulls away and looks you in the eye.

 

"I know you used your fingers... but mind if I inspect your mouth with something a little different?" he asks.

You respond by pressing your lips to his, parting them just enough to slide your tongue across his teeth. A moment later, your tongue is met with his. You're kissing him, really kissing Sans. It's a little strange, and your teeth meet more than once, but it's also nice. You move your tongue back into your mouth and his follows, flicking along your teeth and sliding against your tongue again before he pulls away.

"Interesting," is his only comment.

"That a bad thing?"

"Definitely not," he replies, bringing his mouth to yours once more.

This kiss is a bit longer, leaving you breathless. He leans back and then presses his fingers to your neck.

"Your pulse seems to be a little faster than usual," he comments.

"Kinda what happens when I can't breathe right, yeah."

"Huh. Wonder what that would sound like."

You ease yourself back until you're lying on your back, then pull Sans down gently so that his head is pressed to your chest. "If you wanted to hear my heartbeat, you could've just asked."

"Mmm hmm," he says, relaxing into you, one arm draped across your stomach, his fingers curling against your side. You bring up a hand and rub your fingers along his shoulder blade. It's incredibly relaxing, laying in the sand with Sans, and you nearly fall asleep before you remember something you'd wanted to ask about.

"Are humans allowed into the underground?" you ask.

"Not really. Asgore’s got a buncha guards around the entrances to keep 'em out. Why?"

"I'm just curious about the place you lived in all this time.”

“S’not much to tell, but I can give you an idea I suppose. There were a few different parts to the underground. Where Frisk fell, those’re the Ruins. That's where the original monsters settled. They eventually spread out, and the Ruins were left mostly untouched for years. Snowdin, where I lived, was covered in snow all year round,” he begins. He tells you about Snowdin, with it's underground forests and ice as far as the eye could see. Waterfall, a watery place full of, well, waterfalls, as well as echo flowers, which repeated back whatever was said to them. You're pretty sure he's pulling your leg even though he insists that they're real. Hotlands, with steam driven transport and lava everywhere, and finally New Home. The monsters who hadn't settled in the regions between the Ruins and there lived in the new capitol, including their king. As he speaks the air grows colder, and you can see the sun beginning to set as he finished.

“I'd love to visit, some day,” you say once he stops speaking.

“Maybe some day,” he replies. “For now, we should probably head home, huh?”

You agree and the two of you pack everything up and climb back into the car to begin the trip home. You ask more questions about the underground, and eventually end up talking about inconsequential things.

“Seriously though, did ya think I was gonna float, earlier?” he asks eventually.

“I'm not sure,” you admit. “If I'd really thought about it I suppose I would've realized you're a skeleton so you aren't gonna float.”

"I'm a bone-afide skeleton," Sans agrees.

"I'd say you're more of a bone-a-fine skeleton," you reply, snickering at your own joke.

There's a second of silence in the car before Sans starts laughing. It's a sound you love - deep and humorous, full of genuine enjoyment.

"That was a good one," he says once he's calmed down.

The rest ride home is a pleasant one, full of talk. You arrive home earlier than last time but still pretty late. Sans pulls you in for a lengthy good night kiss before you get out of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very, very much looking forward to the reactions to the next two chapters. I think you guys probably have some inkling of where we're headed here, but if you don't.... Well, prepare yourself for a bad time. (Do I mean in general? Do I mean a Sans bad time? Do I even know these answers or am I just asking you because I'm confused? [Hint: I know the answer and I'm not gonna tell you.])


	16. Underdate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've mentioned being curious about the underground, so Sans decides to indulge you. After all, it's not dangerous down there.

The next few days pass uneventfully. Everyone seems to have accepted that you and Sans are dating. When you'd asked Undyne, she'd told you that there'd been a betting pool up to see how long it would take for a confession. Ferrin had won. Apparently, your mutual attraction had been obvious to everyone but you. Sans had confirmed that he'd been somewhat aware of it himself even though he hadn't acted on it for a while.

A few mornings after your date at the lake, a knock on your door distracts you from your computer. You aren’t doing much, just messing around for the most part. You've met most of your deadlines for now, so although the book is only halfway done you've decided to take a break.

"You can come in," you say, looking up from your laptop.

" 'Morning," Sans says as he walks into your room.

" 'Morning to you too. What's up?"

"You don't have anythin' planned for today, do ya?" Sans asks.

"Not really, no."

"Well, you were sayin' you were curious 'bout the underground, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So, I was thinkin', if you weren't busy.... Wouldja like to go there with me?"

"I'd love to, but isn't it kinda off limits?"

"Only if you don't have permission from Asgore. I already asked him, all you've gotta do is agree."

"Of course I want to go! What should I wear though, is it cold?"

"Dress for cold, yeah. We won't be spending much time in Hotlands," he says, already turning to leave. "Oh, and we're gonna be stayin' overnight if that's okay with you."

"Definitely, just give me a little while to pack then."

"Sure thing. Meet you by the car in thirty?"

"Will do."

 

 

"So, another date for you and Sans huh?"

You're trying to figure out if you’ll need your nice hiking boots when Ferrin's voice breaks through your concentration. You turn from your closet to see her leaning against your doorframe. Figures she'd try to embarrass you again. You return your attention to packing.

"Yeah, we're about to leave. Something up?"

"No, it's nothing, I - I'm just....."

You look up at her in concern. Your sister is many things, and lacking in confidence isn't one of them.

"Is something wrong, Ferrin?"

She looks away from you, staring at the opposite wall. "I can't.... This is going to sound really, really dumb, but be careful today alright? I've had this creepy feeling all week, like something really bad is about to happen."

"I promise I'll be careful," you say, fighting to keep the disbelief off of your face. What on earth is she talking about?

"I know you will. I know it sounds weird, I'm probably just being paranoid, huh?”

She looks like she's genuinely worried for you. You think she's psyched herself out over nothing, but you walk over and give her a quick hug anyways.

“Look, I'm gonna be fine. I've got Sans with me, and apparently I'm not too bad in a fight myself,” you reassure her. She squeezes you tightly before letting go.

“Yeah, I know. Just... I mean it, be careful."

You assure her that you will, and she leaves your room. She's not really the kind of person to get that worried over nothing. Maybe you'll try to talk to her about this when you get back.

Thirty minutes later, you're standing by your car with a duffel bag. You're a little bit nervous, but much more excited. After all, this is where Sans had lived for most of his life. And, of course, it was also a chance to see what kind of place your friends had lived in.

"No need for the car," a voice says, and you turn to see Sans standing behind you.

"How else are we gonna get there?"

He raises an eyebrow and offers you his hand. "Magic, of course. I'll get us there no problem."

You take his hand and nod. For an instant everything is darkness and cold and pressure, until you're left standing in bright, warm sunlight. To one side is an immense cliff overlooking the grassy fields and forests that lead up to Mt. Ebbot. On the other, a huge cave entrance, maybe twenty feet high, stretches above you. The guards who stand to either side of the entrance nod at Sans as the two of you pass by them and into the cave.

"It's a bit steep here," Sans warns you. "Watch your step."

As he warned you, there is a rather steep downgrade and you follow his advice, stepping carefully. The walk continues for quite a while before you get to the bottom. The hallway beyond is surprisingly grey and dull. It forks in two directions, and you go to take the left hand path before a hand on your elbow pulls you back.

"Where're you goin'?" Sans asks.

"Well, I mean. I just figured I'd pick a direction?"

He laughs uneasily and says, "Nah, nothin' of interest over there. Just some, ah, of Asgore’s old rooms. Ya know, storage spaces. Over here to the right is the throne room though, much cooler."

You don't protest as he guides you away from the left hand path, but his reaction was, to say the least, suspicious. You resolve to check those rooms later if you get the chance to. He leads you through several more rooms, each made of solemn grey stone. A strange symbol that you swear you've seen before adorns one wall, and you ask Sans what it is.

"Oh, that thing? It's called the Delta rune. Basically the symbol of the monster royalty."

"So that's where I've seen it before. Toriel and Asgore wear it sometimes, right?"

"Yup. It doesn't really mean anything though. Some real old myth about it, but nobody really gives it any credit."

You nod and continue following him. Around a corner, through a doorway, and you're suddenly stepping into a huge room. The ceiling stretches for what feels like miles above you, and holes and cracks you can't even see from this distance allow rays of sunlight to slip through. The entire room is covered in buttercups, huge yellow blooms carpeting the floor. In the very center rests an immense stone throne. You hesitate for just a moment before you step onto the flowers to get a better view. You try not to focus on it, but the flowers are giving you a distinctly uneasy feeling.

"It's beautiful," you murmur.

"Yeah, it is. This was Asgore’s throne room."

He's followed you onto the flowers, looking around as though he's expecting something or someone he isn't seeing. You give him a questioning look, and he shakes his head. Apparently whatever it is he's on the lookout for isn't important. You shrug and continue investigating the room. The throne eventually captures your attention and Sans follows you over as you investigate it. It's covered in a thick coat of dust, unsurprising considering it’s been months since the monsters left the underground. When you glance at Sans, who's said nothing, he’s looking at the throne like it makes him uncomfortable. You almost ask why, but you get the feeling he wouldn't want you to.

After a moment, he says, "The next room is pretty amazing too."

You nod, glad to have an excuse to leave, then follow him outside. The room beyond looks for a moment as though it's made entirely of gold, almost the same tone as your soul. Immense golden stained glass windows decorate the wall in brief intervals, all embellished with the same symbol - the Delta rune - that you'd been before. These are what gives the room it's unique color. The entire room is made of white marble, with huge pillars rising up to meet the distant ceiling. It isn't quite as high as the throne room, but it's certainly a close second.

"What is this place? Was it used for ceremonies or something?"

"A real long time ago it was designed by an architect who wanted to instill hope in everybody. Can't remember their name, but the room's nice," Sans says. His words are in stark contrast to the distaste with which he is looking at the room. He's staring down the hallway contemplatively, like he's remembering something he'd rather not.

"Something up?"

"Nah, nothin'. You done here?" he asks, offering you his hand.

You accept, and another moment later you're standing in a dry, baking heat. There's some moisture in the air, but not enough to play down the stifling heat. In front of you is what appears to be a huge... well, you're not exactly sure. They look to be slightly glowing squares surrounded by a fog of steam.

"Okay, I'm stumped, what is all of this?"

"It's a puzzle. You step onto a square and the steam underneath pushes you in one direction or another."

"That's pretty inventive, but why's it here? It seems like it would be incredibly inconvenient for travel purposes."

"That's 'cause it is. It's here to gain some extra time in the event of an emergency.'Course in recent years it's more for fun than anything else."

You're about to ask what the hell kind of emergency would be held back by puzzles when it dawns on you. A natural disaster might be unaffected by a puzzle, but an army of humans would be easily defeated by one. Just wait on the other end for them to land there one by one. It was almost chillingly efficient.

“Damn. Wouldn't the steam bake anyone who stepped onto it though?”

“Nah, there're spells up to prevent that.”

You observe the puzzle for a few more moments before Sans offers you his hand again. The next time you pop out of the space in between, you're standing in front of an immense concrete building.

“Is everything here huge or is it just me?”

He chuckles. “Nah, s’not just you. ‘Course the castle would be huge, what did ya expect? This though, it's where Al used to work her magic. Or, well, not magic. It's the research center of the underground, the lab of the Royal Scientist.”

“Wow, seriously? I can't imagine her in such a bleak looking environment, I would've expected more anime posters.”

He snorts. "Then you wouldn't be disappointed. The inside of the lab has all of that kinda stuff. I'd take ya in there, but all of the power's been cut so there's really nothing to see."

"Oh well. What kind of things did Alphys work on?"

"Not sure. I didn't pay a lot of attention."

"Huh. So, where are we exactly? You mentioned something about Hotlands before, is that where we are?"

"Yup. It's a pretty big region full a lava and steam vents. Hotter than hell too. Ready to head on?"

Now that he mentions it, you can feel your clothing sticking to the back of your neck. You take his hand gratefully and the two of you step into a watery room. The floor underneath you is springy, covered in blue moss.

"Waterfall?"

"Waterfall."

He trails behind you as you poke around, moving from room to room. As its name indicates, Waterfall is full of waterfalls, and a lot of water in general. You eventually find a large blue flower that sparks a memory.

"Oh! Is this one of those echo flowers you mentioned?"

"Yup."

"I thought you made that up," you admit. You're still not sure he hadn't been lying.

"Test it out for yourself."

You lean towards the flower, inspecting it closely. Surely it wasn't dangerous, or Sans wouldn't let you get this close, even as a joke.

"Hello?" you say tentatively.

"Hello?" it echoes back. It sounds almost exactly like your voice, just pitched slightly higher.

You rock back on your heels, staring at it in shock.

"My god, you weren't kidding!"

"Yup. They're pretty weird suckers. If you can get the timing and position just right... Well, I'll just show you," he says.

"Show me what?" you ask, climbing to your feet.

His shoulders start shaking as he tries to hold back his laughter. "Ready to see something hilarious?"

He doesn't wait for your answer, instead walking over to a pair of echo flowers growing close together. He grabs one, pulling it to the side.

"My voice is higher than yours," he says, still shaking with suppressed laughter.

He quickly turns the flower to face the other.

"My voice is higher than yours," it says, just a bit higher pitched than Sans' voice.

"My voice is higher than yours," the other echoes, higher than the first.

Sans is already doubled over laughing, and you can't help but join him. It's childish but you just can't stop laughing at it. The flowers' echoes get progressively shriller and shriller, it's just so damn ridiculous.

Eventually it gets to be almost painful to listen to, and you grab Sans' hand, pulling him out of the room. A little ways away the sound is more manageable - the flowers are still going at it amazingly enough - and you look at him. He's still giggling, tears of mirth running down his face.

"My... ribs," he gasps, "That was... hilarious!"

You grin. "Geez, it's not that funny."

"Is... too."

It takes him a bit longer to calm down before you can continue your exploration. A room beyond is nearly pitch black, covered in faintly glowing purple crystals that fail to illuminate the room properly.

“I'm gonna teleport us past these if you don't mind,” Sans says. “They're a bit treacherous.”

“Okay,” you reply, feeling his hand grab your own.

The room you've entered is huge and the ceiling is covered in a smattering of luminescent rock. It twinkles dully against a backdrop of dark black stone.

“What is this?”

“It's the closest monsters got to the surface for hundreds of years.”

“Is that supposed to be the sky?”

“Yup. It's nothing compared to the real thing, but it's the best they had.”

“Did somebody make this?”

“Nah, it's natural. I’ve spent a lotta time here. Always did love the idea of the stars.”

The two of you spend a while observing the bright lights before he silently offers his hand. You accept and you’re drawn into the now familiar cold.

"And this," he says as you step onto crisp snow, "Is Snowdin."

"Is it always snowing here? It's the middle of spring, shouldn't it have melted by now?"

 

"Nah, it snows here all year round. The underground doesn't have seasons like there are above."

 

"Weird, but okay. So is this where you lived?"

"Yup. Pap and I lived right over there," he says, pointing towards a two story house decorated in... Christmas lights?

Now that you stop and look, the whole town has a bit of a winter holiday feeling. Theirs isn't the only home decorated with lights. There's a pine tree in the center of the main road, and an igloo stands nearby, almost entirely covered in snow.

He notices you staring. "Yeah, I know, it looks like Christmas."

"How'd you know I was thinking that?"

"Frisk always says so."

"Well, they aren't wrong, you live in Christmas town. Although based on its citizens you'd think it would resemble Halloween town a bit more. You've even got a perfect Jack if you can get Papyrus into the outfit."

"I'm gonna assume that made sense to you and ya aren't just babbling nonsense?"

"What? You've never seen The Nightmare Before Christmas?"

"Is that some kinda anime?"

"I wouldn't rule it out, but no, it was originally a movie. You've seriously never seen it?"

"Doesn't sound familiar, no."

"Oh man, you're in for a treat. We'll watch it when we get back. It's an amazing movie."

"If ya say so. You tired? We've been walking around for a long time."

"It can't possibly have been that long," you say, pulling your phone out of your pocket. "Holy crap, it's six already. Wow."

"Yeah, like I said. D'you wanna head to my place? I set things up so we can eat there."

You agree and follow Sans into his house. The interior is pitch black, and he fumbles around for a second before using his phone as a flashlight. A few moments later, he's lit a some portable lamps. The house still isn't exactly well lit but it's bright enough to see. The room is sparsely furnished and thoroughly coated in dust.

"Heh, I, uh, well. Sorry 'bout the.... dust," he says, choking on the last word, "It's only to be expected. It has been a few months since Pap's been by to clean."

He's trying to brush it off but he's been having this same difficulty all day, despite his best efforts to convince you otherwise. You’re too worried to let it slide any longer.

"Sans, why does the dust everywhere bother you so much? What is it about this house being dusty that's a problem?"

"S'not bothering me, I dunno what you're talking about."

You almost decide to let it go there. "Sans.... I get it, you know? You've got your secrets, we've only known each other for a few months, and just because we're dating now doesn't mean you have to tell me everything about yourself immediately. But.... I'd really rather you didn't lie to me, you know?"

His shoulders sag in defeat, and he turns to face you. "S'not that I wanna lie to you, [your name]. It's just that the dust bring back a lotta memories I've been tryin' to forget."

"I'd noticed, yeah. Do you want to talk about them, or?"

"You've already heard this bit. But... Alright. You know how monsters are made of magic, right? Nothin' physical unless it's made of their magic?"

"Yeah?"

"When a monster dies, their bodies turn to dust. No decomposition, no breaking down, just dust, instant dust. So when I see everything covered in dust, it reminds me of... the bad times, when the kid kills us."

"Oh my god, no wonder the dust.... Sans, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked," you say.

"No, s'not your fault. I'm sorry for ruining the date by being mopey."

You step forward and draw him in for a hug. "You aren't being mopey, and this date has been amazing. I get it. Having all of your friends die, seeing Papyrus get hurt.... I don't expect you to act like nothing's wrong, you know."

He moves closer to you, hugging you tightly. "I'm fine. It's just a little dirt, nothin' to worry myself over. You ready to eat?"

The rest of the night passes with stories about Snowdin and Papyrus. You aren't sure how late it is by the time your yawning makes Sans suggest that the two of you head off to sleep. You change in what was Papyrus’ room before knocking on Sans’ door. He opens it for you, already dressed for bed. The room beyond is much cleaner than you'd expected.

“Your room always this neat?”

“Nah, Paps couldn't bring himself to leave the house dirty so he cleaned it up for me before we left. All I had to do was put some sheets on the bed.”

The two of you stand awkwardly for a moment before he says, “So, you planning to come inside or are you gonna leave me on my bone-some?”

You snort and walk into his room. "How on earth you manage to make so many bone puns is beyond me."

"I've used 'em all before ya know. I've had a lotta resets to perfect my pun timing," he says. It probably would've been a funny comment, if he hadn't sounded so bitter about it.

"Would you maybe rather go back to the house? It kinda seems like being down here is painful for you."

"No, that's not it," he sighs. "It's not being here. I like the underground, really. It was home for most of my life, ya know? Might not've been my first choice, but it was home."

You sit on the edge of his bed. "You still believe that this could all end tomorrow, don't you?"

He looks away, staring at the wall. "Yeah."

"Don't you believe in Frisk?"

"No. I'm trying, alright? I really, really am. It's just.... I've got all a these memories screaming at me, sayin' I've made a mistake trusting the kid. Made a mistake by hoping that things could get better."

He falls silent, and you wait for him to speak. He doesn't, staring at the wall like it's got the answers he's looking for. Eventually he sighs again and joins you on the bed.

"Do you really think everything you've done this time around is a mistake?" you ask.

"No, s'not that. I just can't help worrying. I wake up every morning and have to take a minute trying to convince myself to open my eyes. Trying to believe I'm not gonna see the beginning of the same day again. I'm tryin' to move forward, believe me I am. But sometimes.... Sometimes it's real damn hard to keep hoping for a better future."

"So you don't think of everything as a mistake?"

"Nah. There's a lot of stuff I'm not gonna regret about this timeline. I’ve been trying to live 'em like they're gonna be the permanent one."

You both fall silent for a bit longer before you break it.

 

"There's something that's been on my mind recently."

"Yeah? What is it?"

You take a moment to think about how you're going to phrase your question before you begin. “If everything reset tomorrow, would you regret this? Choosing to be with me? Would you try to find me again?”

He doesn't answer for a long, long time. When he does, his voice is heavy and tired. So, so tired. “I wouldn't regret it, no. I spent a hell of a lot of time deciding if I even wanted to do anythin’ about knowing you thought of me in that way. Or about how I felt, for that matter. Eventually I made a choice to try to believe in Frisk, believe that this time, they weren't gonna reset. It's not easy. But I'm tired of feeling like everything is out of my control. Being with you, choosing to try to think that this timeline is gonna be permanent, it's my way of taking back control.”

“I’m glad to hear it. But you didn’t answer the whole question.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I know. Is that really an answer that ya want though?”

“I think I already know it. But yes, I want to hear you say it.”

“You remember what I told you about me n’ Tori, right?”

“Yes.”

“I…. can’t let that happen again. I can’t let myself start treating someone else like they’re not a real person. Especially if I genuinely loved them at one point. So no. If there’s another reset, I wouldn’t go find you. You’d be better off without me anyways.”

You’d known that would be his response, known he couldn’t, wouldn’t, put himself through that again. It was for the best. After all, a relationship is something built between two people, and both of them needed to remember the relationship for it to work. You know that. It doesn’t make his words hurt any less though.

Both of you are quiet for a very long time before he breaks the silence. “I wouldn’t go and find you then. But maybe…. if it was a few years down the road, if the kid had proven themselves to me…. Maybe if you were still, ya know, available, I’d see if I could do anythin’ to make you give me a chance.”

You look at him in surprise and find that his gaze is already on you. There’s a heartbreaking amount of sorrow there, but there’s also tentative hope. Hope and, if you dare say it, love.

“You mean that?”

“Yeah. I want us to work out, [your name]. I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too,” you say, throwing your arms around him.

  
His mouth meets yours and you’re kissing him. It’s a needy kiss, hungry even. Both of you need to know that the other is there, that they care for you. Love is the unspoken word on both of your lips, but it can wait. You’ve got time. You’re sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note added to previous chapter: Making a V shape with your fingers before jabbing them into your neck has one of two meanings in ASL (American Sign Language): 1) Stuck or 2) Unplanned pregnancy. So yeah, safe to assume that Sans meant he was stuck. (As a side note, I found that online, so maybe the site was wrong, but I'm gonna assume it got it right.)
> 
> Also, I'm gonna put a warning here. After this chapter, it's going to get a lot darker rather quickly. There is a reason for the fic being marked with Major Character Death AND Graphic Depictions of Violence. There will be blood, there will be pain, there will be sorrow, and, yes, death. There's light at the end of the tunnel but it's pretty far off. So if you just wanted a cute fluffy read, then you're gonna want to pretend that everything ends here. This can be the last chapter, if you want it to be. But if you're gonna continue, expect a hell of a ride my friends. So, you've got your warning. 
> 
> On the flip side, I might enjoy writing angst and pain, but I do not by any means enjoy sad endings where everybody's dead. I'm not saying it won't be sad, but, well, if you're expecting that much pain then you're way off of the mark.
> 
> Warnings aside, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!


	17. Mistakes Were Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some soul touching, some more fluff. You're having fun underground, so the two of you decide to keep going in the morning. To the Ruins!

The kisses leave you breathless but it's late and both of you are tired, so you settle into bed together, talking about little things.

“When did you start thinking about dating me anyways?” you ask.

“Hmmm. Probly the day we all got smashed at your house. You, uh, got a little… clingy.”

“Ugh. That's embarrassing," you say, grimacing. "So it didn't have anything to do with the soul stuff?”

“What d’you mean?”

"Well, you could basically read my mind when you touched my soul. So I guess that's two questions then. Did you realize how I felt when you touched my soul that day? And what the heck did that feel like anyways?"

He pauses to think, then says, "It was... amazing. Your soul... I don't even know how to describe it, [your name]. Human souls, they're made a whatever that person feels the strongest. Frisk's is made a determination, for example. But yours, I'm pretty sure, is made of love. The good kind, not LOVE. When I touched it that's what I felt at least."

"So when you touched it you already knew that I, you know, liked you as more than a friend?"

"It was kinda hard to tell, honestly. I could feel lotsa stuff. How glad you were that you'd been able to protect us, your love for your sister, that you already felt like we were your family. It was... a lot to take in. It was only when you started worrying about your soul being weird that I noticed you were thinkin' along those lines."

"Huh." You pause and think before you speak again. "So, if a human touched a monster soul, would the same thing happen?"

For a moment, he doesn't reply and you begin to worry that you've offended him. Souls are a pretty personal thing, after all. Maybe monsters consider it offensive somehow?

"Probly safe to assume that much, yeah. But, ya know," he says, looking you in the eye, "We have two people here who could solve that particular mystery."

"Oh! You don't - that's not what - just because-"

"Woah, there, slow down," he says, laughing quietly. "I know that wasn't what ya were gettin' at. I probly coulda phrased that better though. What I meant was, would you like to?"

"Isn't that, kinda, you know, intimate?"

"Not necessarily, just means I trust ya. For monsters it's a pretty big step in a relationship, although friends and family members do it too sometimes. S'not like you have to," he adds, noticing your hesitation.

"I just don't want to make you feel like you have to," you say.

"I don't. 'Sides, if we're basing it on monster customs, it's pretty rude if I touch your soul and I don't let you do the same to mine."

"I am curious," you admit.

"So d'you wanna?"

You hesitate for a moment longer before saying, "Yes."

He rises an arm and, at his gesture, his soul is floating in front of you. It's just like Toriel's, ghostly white and upside down. There's a very subtle blue glow around the entire thing. It's beautiful, and you take a few moments to just look at it.

When you continue staring instead of moving, Sans clears his throat. Looking at him, you can see his cheekbones are lightly dusted with blue.

"S'not gonna bite, ya know," he says.

"Oh, sorry! It's just so beautiful," you say, looking back at it. The blue on his face intensifies and you hold back laughter.

"Is it okay though?" you ask, just to be sure.

He nods, and you look back at his soul. Sans' soul, right in front of you, and he trusts you enough to let you touch it. It's almost scary, having that kind of trust placed in you.

You reach out cautiously to cup your hands around his soul. You aren't quite touching it, almost afraid to try. You can feel it's warmth radiating outwards. Slowly, ever so slowly, you bring one of your fingers close to touch it. As you come in contact with the surface, you gasp. It's different from before, although that might have more to do with you not being on death's door than with the experience. It's like…. Well, it's nothing like anything else you've ever felt. It's a bit overwhelming, if you're honest, so you take a steadying breath and work on separating out the parts.

His soul has a lot of warm feelings. Love, happiness, a warm, cozy feeling that reminds you of being wrapped in a large fluffy blanket on a cool day. Below these surface feelings though, are other emotions. Even there there's a lot of love - for his brother, for you, for Toriel, for Frisk and everyone else in your little family, that isn't everything.  Winding around the entirety, are thorn covered vines of sorrow and loss. Not surprising, but saddening. You'd felt it before, of course, but this time it was clearer to you. A sense of anxiety and worry also pervaded the entirety of his being. Somewhere deeper still lies a stagnant pool of resignation and hopelessness. Everything good is tainted with the bad, and it brings tears to your eyes.

“I wish I could help you,” you say.

“Hey, babe, don't cry,” he says, cupping your face with his hands as his thumbs wipe the tears away. “It's alright, really. I'm happier than I've been for a real long time.”

“That's not reassuring, Sans. Your soul feels… very, very sad.”

“What you're feeling there isn't all that there is to me. Some a the stuff here, it's brought back bad memories so the bad things are more obvious than usual. And I know it isn't reassuring. Trust me, I know. But I'm putting faith in the kid again. For the first time in a very, very, very long time, I've allowed myself to hope that things are going to be okay.”

As he speaks you can feel that he's being genuine - maybe he was understating how many negative emotions were there, true. But you can now feel the tentative hope in his soul too. The negative feelings fade a bit as it flares up, bright but also delicate, fragile.

It's fragility makes you want to strengthen it. His sorrows make you want to override them with joy. Your soul responds to your desire, magic reaching out towards his soul. The clear glass slides over his soul, and you both gasp.

"How did you...?" he asks.

"I don't know," you whisper back.

"Are you feeling tired again?"

"No, not yet. It's not too straining to use it on only one soul."

Sans nods. "You should experiment with it while you have the chance."

"Experimenting with your soul seems like a terrible idea."

"Your magic is only useful for defense, what's the worst ya could do? Shield me to death?"

"Ha ha, very funny. So what should I do then?"

"I dunno actually. Try sending me something, like an emotion or a memory. Asgore said that the other human with this ability could do that.”

You cast around in your mind for something you’d like to show him. Something happy, definitely.

You eventually settle for a simple memory from when you were very, very young. It's a little bit fuzzy, but it's still one that you love. Your parents had taken you and Ferrin to a park. It probably hadn't been to first time, but it was the first one that you remembered.

You focus solely on the memory and then attempt to convey it through the link between the two of you.

“Damn, you were a cute kid,” Sans comments.

“That worked?”

“Yup. Pretty clear, actually. You should probly drop that now, make sure you don't use up all of your magic.”

You do, and while you do feel a bit drained, it's nothing like the previous two times.

“You alright?” Sans asks.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Here,” you say, offering him his soul. He takes it back, the white heart dissolving into his bones.

 

**  
  
\-----------------------  
  
  
**

 

The next morning finds the two of you out early, meandering your way through Snowdin. Sans points out old Grillby's, a rather shabby looking brick building. Further down, an abandoned inn stands beside an equally deserted store.

“It's a little bit eerie, seeing these empty places."

“Yeah. If everybody was still down here the town would be busy right about now. It's weird seein’ it so deserted. Like everyone just got Snowdin.”

“That was so bad. So bad.”

“But you're laughing,” he says, grinning.

“I am, darn you.”

“Snow problem, I've got more. What do you call an old snowman?”

“What?” you groan, sure it's going to be terrible.

“Water!”

You snort and he chuckles. You follow him across a rather lengthy bridge, and discover that the other side is heavily forested. The trees are immense, stretching upwards of eighty feet into the air. The two of you make your way through several different clearings, some filled with ice and snow, others with what Sans informs you are abandoned puzzles. He eventually teleport the two of you to an immense door.

“This’s the door to the Ruins,” he explains.

“Wait, don't tell me… The place where monsters first descended, right? And Toriel lived here for a while too?”

“Yup. We should just be able to push on the door here…” he mutters, pressing a hand to the door.

For a moment it refuses to budge, but slowly and surely it opens. The two of you step inside, and it's instantly warner than before. You walk down a long hallway, eventually emerging into the house Toriel lived in before the monsters came above ground.

"She lived in this huge place all by herself?" you ask.

"Yeah. She was a pretty lonely lady."

"I feel bad for her. I wonder what the heck she and Asgore argued over? It must've been something huge if she exiled herself because of it."

"Yup. Ya know, I've never been down here before. I wasn't around when the first exiles got sent down, and Tori had a barrier up to  prevent anyone from getting in."

"Well, here's your chance, wanna see what's here?"

"Might as well. I've always been curious," he admits.

The two of you exit the house and step into the ruins outside. The first thing you see is a huge tree, impossibly kept alive without sunlight. Magic, of course. Somehow, the explanation was always magic, as exasperating as that is.

The rooms beyond contain simple, already deactivated puzzles. Apparently Toriel hadn't wanted anyone getting hurt by accident.

A couple of rooms past an area mostly made of a wide metal grate, you start getting thirsty. You take off your backpack and start fishing through it for your water bottle. A few minutes of fruitless searching later, you're forced to admit that it isn't there.

"Hey, do you have the water?" you ask.

"No, I thought that you did?" Sans replies, looking up from the plaque he's inspecting.

"Then neither of us have it. Ah well."

"I could always pop back to the house and grab some."

"You don't have to, it's fine."

"No, really, I'm gonna go get it for you. S'not a big deal. I'll be back in a minute," he says, disappearing.

Well, that was that you suppose. You're left standing in the Ruins with nothing better to do, so you decide to keep going on your own. As you walk forward, you can hear something. It almost sounds like a voice, although you can't tell if it's one speaker or many.

You keep going, figuring that the whatever it is is probably friendly enough.

"Who wants all of that sappy family bullshit anyways?" the voice says.

It's just barely audible, still out of sight. Whoever the voice belongs to, their words don't match with their tone. They sound sad, and you think that maybe they've had some kind of falling out with their family members.

"It's all pointless anyways."

You're nearly to the entrance of the next room, and you're pretty sure that the voice is coming from the room beyond. You debate whether or not you should continue, but after all, Sans will be back soon. You step forward past the doorway.

You aren't sure what you'd been expecting, but it certainly isn't what you get. There's no one in the room that you step into, just a bed of more of the yellow flowers you'd first seen in the throne room.

The voice isn't speaking at the moment, had they maybe left the room?

“I bet they're happy right now. It's afternoon, I bet they're all sitting down to lunch together.”

The voice cuts off there. Not gone then, just out of sight. When it begins again it sounds terrifyingly like Papyrus’.

“Nyeh heh heh! I have prepared the finest cuisine for you, my friends!”

Next it's Toriel’s voice. “My child, may I assist you? You have food all over your face.”

Asgore. “Would you like a drink? I can prepare tea!”

“Dear, do you feel like we're forgetting anyone?” Toriel again.

“Why, no! What possible reason could w **E HAVE TO REMEMBER OUR OWN DAMN - ARGH!** ”

Halfway through the voice changes from Asgore’s to something darker, sinister. And yet, unless you're much mistaken, the whatever it is sounds like it's in pain. Now it almost sounds like it's crying, despite its angry outburst earlier.

“Hello?” you call. “Is somebody here? I thought I heard someone talking.”

The sounds of sorrow cut off abruptly. You step forward, walking towards the patch of sunlight.

“Hello?” you call again.

“What do you want?” comes the sullen reply.

“Nothing. I just thought I heard someone talking over here.”

“You…. You're a human?”

“Yes, I am. If you're asking that though, you must be a monster, right?”

The voice falls silent, and you pause at the edge of the buttercups. You still can't see anything in the room with you, however.

“Are you some kind of invisible monster?” you ask.

“That's stupid, of course not,” the voice says. It appears to be coming from directly in front of and below you, but there's just nothing there.

“Nice place you've got here,” you comment.

“Is not.”

“I don't know about that. You've got sunlight, and some nice flowers, and the Ruins seem like a pretty place.”

“There's nobody here.”

“I guess it would get a bit lonely. You know that the barrier’s down, right?”

Bitter laughter. “Oh, I know. Trust me, I know.”

“Then why not leave? You could have plenty of friends above ground.”

“So why's a human down here anyways? Don't you know this mountain belongs to monsters?” the voice asks in a rather obvious attempt to change the subject.

“I'm here with a friend of mine, actually. He's a monster."

"Which one?" the voice asks, suspicious. You're almost positive that this creature is hiding in the flowerbed, although you can't see it.

"I'm not sure you would've met if you live here in the Ruins. He's a skeleton monster, if that helps."

“A skeleton? Wait, you wouldn't happen to be talking about Papyrus?”

“Oh, you know Papyrus? He lives with us, you know. But no, Papyrus isn't with me today. I could bring him next time, if you'd like?”

“No! If you aren't here with that **idiot** , who are you here with?” the voice demands.

You don't like the way it called Papyrus an idiot any more than you like the way it's speaking now. It dawns on you that maybe whatever you're speaking with is dangerous. At that moment, you hear the unmistakable sound of Sans calling your name.

“I'm sorry, I think my friend is here,” you say, edging backwards.

Or at least that's what you try to do. Instead your feet catch on vines and you nearly fall into the floor. From the flower patch rises what is unmistakably a buttercup with a face. It's horrifying like none of the other monsters have been. It feels… wrong. Like it isn't supposed to exist.

It cackles at you, it's face twisting into a horrifying smile. “Why, golly, I'd hate to see you leave so soon. Especially since your friend just got here! It's Sans, isn't it? Oh, he'll just love to say hi to his old friend the flower!”

You don't respond, staring at the creature in horror. Do monsters like this really exist?

“Hey, [your name], are you -" Sans says as he enters the room. " **G e t   a w a y   f r o m   t h e m.** ” You've never been to glad to hear that voice from him.

“Oh, how nice of you to show up! See, now we can all have one big party!” the flower croons.

Your legs finally obey you and you back away from the flower, carefully avoiding the vines that seem to be everywhere all of the sudden. You move to stand besides Sans, who is already glowing blue with his magic. It makes you feel all good deal safer, knowing he was there to back you up.

“What the hell is it?” you ask, staring at the flower. It's reared it's head higher over the other flowers now, swaying like some kind of demented cobra.

“A goddamn nuisance," he growls, moving to stand in front of you.

"Oh, I'm the nuisance, am I? Do you know how annoying you are, you stupid bag of bones? I'm just trying to live my life peacefully but no. No, instead I have to deal with you and your stupid date," the flower hisses.

"We can leave," you offer, taking a small step back. You really, really don't like the look of this thing. You get the vague feeling that you've met it before, and you definitely didn't want to meet it again.

"Yes, you can. You get to leave the underground! Aren't you soo lucky? Wait. You came back here just to rub it in my face, didn't you?!" it shouts. The cavern echoes with the sound.

"No, Flowey, that's not why we're here," Sans says.

"I don't believe you! You always did hate me, you smiley trash bag! You did this on purpose! You wanted to rub it in my face that I have to stay here! You're an idiot! Idiots, the both of you!"

Flowey's slowly working himself into a rage, shouting rather childish insults. You feel a trickle of dirt hit your shoulder and look up. The cavern above you is a tangled mess of vines, and it looks like it could cave in at any moment.

"Uh, Sans?" you squeak, staring above you.

"What?" he says, glancing at you. He follows your gaze upwards. "Oh, for the love of-"

The cavern collapses inwards as Flowey starts cackling. You feel time slow down like some B rate movie. Sans grabs your hand, pulling you forward. As the cold and pressure of his teleportation close in around you, you glance back. Flowey is staring after you both, a strange expression on his face. It's somewhere between anger and... longing? As you look upwards towards the falling rocks, you swear you can catch a glimpse of yellow light from his direction and a sad, broken whisper before the darkness grabs ahold of you and you're gone.

**  
  
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**

 

You blink awake in your bed at home. You can't remember what you'd been dreaming about, but it had definitely been a good dream. At least, you think so. You could vaguely remember feeling happy, at least. Surprising, considering how stressed you should be. Your final draft needs to be done in the next week, and it's been causing you to have some very strange nightmares.

You head downstairs, hoping there's something in the fridge. When you open it, you sigh. The only things in it were some leftover pizza and more half drunk soda bottles than you wanted to bother to count.

"Yup, pretty depressing," Ferrin says from the kitchen door. "How's the writing going?"

"Less writing, more re-reading my own writing infinite times. I can't even tell if it's supposed to have some kind of emotional impact at this point. The whole thing just kinda blurs together," you say.

"You're almost done though, that's a plus, right?"

"I mean. I guess. Gotta head to the publisher to make sure everything's set up, and then it's book signings. Book signings are the most awkward thing ever, have I mentioned that? How the hell am I supposed to tell someone that they're completely misinterpreting my story when they're so damn enthusiastic about it?"

Ferrin shrugs. "You're the writer here, you tell me. You're gonna be gone for the entire week leading up to Halloween, right?"

"Wha- I mean, is it almost Halloween already?" That can't be right. That just... can't be. Your head starts to ache just thinking about it, and the sudden nausea in your stomach almost makes you spit out the bite of pizza in your mouth.

"Uh, yeah? There's only a week left until the thirty first. What the hell is up with you today?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was this close to naming the chapter Goddamn it Flowey. I restrained myself. Barely. 
> 
> In case you're like me and you didn't catch it: previous chapter it was spring. It is now October. Previous chapter you're halfway through a book. Now you've just finished one. Previously you had a full house. Now it's empty. Your fridge is also back to mysteriously containing the kinds of foods eaten by a couple of twenty somethings living together.
> 
> So, any clue what's happened here? 'Cause our poor Reader is pretty baffled.
> 
> We've done it - we are finally taking a dive into the real plot of the story. No, I won't just be retelling the game. Some things will stay constant, but others are going to change drastically. I hope you guys are ready for the ride.


	18. Undone But Not Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't remember why, but something is terribly, terribly wrong. Can an outside source provide you the answers you need?

_"Wha- I mean, is it almost Halloween already?" That can't be right. That just... can't be. Your head starts to ache just thinking about it, and the sudden nausea in your stomach almost makes you spit out the bite of pizza you just took._

 

_"Uh, yeah? There's only a week left until the thirty first. What the hell is up with you today?"_

 

\----------------------------

 

"I, uh, nothing, just out of it because of the writing, you know how it goes. You've made some kind of plan, I assume?" you ask, trying to play off your uncertainty. What is wrong with you today?

"Well, I've invited a few people over for a Halloween party, since you'll be gone. You don't mind, do you?" Ferrin asks.

"Nah, that's fine. Just don't wreck the house. I'm gonna...... go back to writing," you say, standing up shakily, leaving your half finished food on the table.

"Hey, [your name]," Ferrin says. You turn to look at her and see concern written all over her face. "You seem like you're working too hard. Don't you think you should take a break, get some relaxation? Maybe eat a real meal instead of three bites of pizza?"

"No need to worry about me, kiddo." That word causes you to feel just a bit more sick to your stomach. "I uh, just have to get something done, I'll eat something later, okay?"

"I'm going to hold you to that," Ferrin says.

You go upstairs as quickly as you can - god the house feels so empty, why does it feel so empty? - and sit down on your bed heavily. Your head is pounding, and the nausea from earlier won't go away either. Had you somehow gotten a stomach flu? But what the hell kind of stomach flu was triggered by thinking? No, it can't be that.

You can't remember... something. Something important. Something that was causing this severe of a reaction just because it wasn't in your brain. You sort through your mind, pulling up the facts. The house feels too empty, the season is off, you swear you already remember publishing this book, and.... one other thing. One other vital thing that's just beyond your grasp. You know that you want to remember it - it's a good thing, a warm and fuzzy thing - but it just isn't there. It's like you're looking for memories that don't exist.

Searching your mind leaves you dizzy and in pain, and you push the feelings aside. You aren't accomplishing anything that's for sure. You sigh, staring up at your ceiling. As frustrating as it is, the whatever it is isn't going to be easy to remember. Best to save it for later, some time when you're feeling better. You pull your phone over, flipping through the Internet for something to do. The feeling of wrongness is fading, much to your relief. Maybe it had just been stress over the book after all.

**  
  
\-----------------------------  
  
  
  
**

You jerk your head up when the sound of static fills your room, then scramble backwards on your bed. In front of you, standing in your room like it had every right to be there, is a black creature. It looks, for lack of a better word, like it's melting in on itself. It's vaguely shaped like a man in a very large trench coat. One thin, skeletal hand is placed on your laptop, while what must be it's face stares towards you. It's white, cracks running through both of the black voids where its eyes should be, one of which droops much lower than the other. And you... you recognize that face.

"You! You were in my room before!" you say.

**Yes. Good to know you remember that.**

The voice doesn't come from its mouth - you don't think it can open its mouth - but from your laptop.

"But wait, when the hell... I can't... I remember it happening but I don't know when it happened," you confess.

** That is because it has not happened. And now it never will. **

"Not r-really very reassuring," you say, trying and failing to keep the fear out of your voice.

**My apologies. I do look rather terrifying, do I not? I do not intend to harm you.** The voice seems almost apologetic.

"It's less that and more that I don't know who you are or how you got up here." Not that they didn't look scary, but they seem pretty sad about it so you aren't going to tell them that.

** You can answer one of those questions by looking at these files on your computer. As for the other, I believe it will be fairly obvious to you afterwards. **

They lift your computer and walk (slide? You can't tell.) over to you slowly. It takes all of your determination to not flinch away as they place the laptop gently on your bed and back away. You pull it towards you and see that the file in front of you is labeled Undertale. The name bring the headache back and cranks it up to nearly blinding proportions. You groan and grab your head.

One of the thing's hands reaches out and touches your laptop. **I should have warned you, I am sorry. The headache will increase as you attempt to remember. It will go away if you manage to remember  the information.**

"Yeah, thanks for the warning," you gasp out. Sarcasm, not your best trait, but then again you've really got no reason to be nice to strange mystery beings.

The headache fades back to a manageable jackhammer in your skull. You double click the file and open the first thing in it. A cute, bubbly song comes on. Instead of voices, however, odd sounds "sing" the song.

"What the...."

The next file contains another song, this one a parody of another one you've heard before.

**  
  
**

"But kids like you don't play by the rules

And guys like me it ain't easy to be played for fools

So let's go let the room get chiller

Let's go, dirty brother killer."

**  
  
**

You don't remember this song. You don't remember the other one either. So why were you having an emotional reaction to both of them? Why does the phrase "dirty brother killer" send a familiar chill down your spine?

Next file, a picture instead of music. It's a kid hugging what appears to be a goat person in a field of yellow flowers.

"Frisk," you mutter. Wait, how the hell did you know that name?

The blob's finger snakes out again. **Yes. Do you remember anything else?**

"I... no. No, not yet."

**Continue then.**

And you do. There must be hundreds of files, drawings and music and short sections of writing. It only takes a few more images for fuzzy memories to surface and you know what you're looking at. This is Undertale. The RPG game you'd let take over your life for ages, and had continued to love even as the fandom had slowly crept into obscurity. You remember how much you'd come to love the characters. The storyline, the music, you'd almost memorized it all. But there's still something missing. Finally, a picture of the thing in front of you pops up. It appears to be speaking in.... Wingdings?

"Oh my god. That's not... that's not possible," you whisper, staring at the thing - no, man, or at least he was once a man, in front of you.

** It is very much possible. Improbable, certainly. However, my presence confirms that it is not impossible. **

"You.... you're W. D. Gaster. The man who speaks in hands," you say. Please tell me I'm wrong, please tell me I'm wrong...

**I am.**

"Does that mean.... all of the others....?"

**Yes. That is the rest of the information you are missing.** Your computer exits from the folder you were on without you having done anything. A new file pops up and opens on its own.

"Come on, just explain this, why do I have to put it together on my own?"

**Because it is easiest this way. Look at the contents of the folder.**

You rub your temples and open the file. Inside are photos. Of you. You with Ferrin and the skelebros. Alphys with you and Undyne, striking anime poses. You with Toriel, baking a pie. You and Asgore with Frisk between you. You and Sans, somewhere at a table together. Papyrus and Undyne, training together in what is unmistakably your back yard. More photos, so many more, but you don't need them. Months of memories that never happened flood your mind.

"Oh my god. Holy shit," you whisper.

That is one way to put it.

"Gaster can you just... Give me a sec here?"

**Certainly. Take your time.** Apparently, you aren't the only one with a sarcasm problem.

You sit back, breathing heavily. The headache is indeed gone, but your stomach is still twisting itself in knots. Your last memories are Flowey - Asriel? - causing the cave in and you escaping with Sans. If that's the case, then...

"Frisk reset. Did someone die or...? "

****

** No. Flowey reset. If Frisk is not present in the underground, he has the most determination and can therefore reset the timeline. **

"Little piece of shit. Okay, Flowey reset. So we're back to square one and everybody's back down there again? Frisk must be so confused. Oh god, Sans," you breathe. He's already been wrecked by the resets, and he'd only just brought himself to hope that there wouldn't be any more. Had he just woken up back in Snowdin? What was he doing? He wouldn't do anything drastic... right?

****

** That is why they need you. **

"Wha - I can't do anything, what are you talking about?"

**False. You may be the difference that they need. You must go underground and save them.**

"What do you mean? I can't do anything Frisk can't do! Frisk's supposed to save them all, remember?"

**Also false. Frisk is not capable of saving everyone because they are a part of the problem. The resets must stop. To do so everyone capable of resetting the timeline must either die or be convinced to cease their use of that power.**

"I'm not killing Frisk!"

**I am not asking you to. Be silent. It is difficult to maintain this form and there is much that you need to know. You do not have to kill anyone. You must SAVE everyone. There are souls that Frisk has failed and will continue to fail to save. You must succeed. If the resets are allowed to continue, not only will my - not only will Sans give up on trying, but so will Frisk. The second that they give in, Flowey is free to do as he will with the timelines once more. The jumps through time are making the timelines incredibly unstable - that is the sole reason I have been able to appear to you, and in fact the only reason you are here. The timelines can not handle much more before they collapse entirely. Do you understand?**

"I... maybe? Are you saying that you want me to go to the underground and do what Frisk did? And the souls I'm supposed to help, how am I supposed to know who they are?"

Gaster moved to touch the laptop once more when a strange thing happens. His hand glitches, like an overheated computer screen.

** My time is short. Yes. You need to fall where Frisk fell. The two souls will come to you in their own time. **

"Is that all? Isn't there something else I should know?"

**As a matter of fact....** Gaster leans closer to you, the glitches only adding to his eerie appearance. **If you hurt Sans or Papyrus, I will make you regret it.**

****

With that final threat, he fades into nothingness.

"Okay, thanks dude. Really needed some more horror in my life." Sans uses bad jokes, and apparently you cope with sarcasm. Who would've thought it?

**Bring your computer with you. It is easiest to communicate in this manner. And hurry. They need your help now.**

"You're like the world's loudest and most mysterious computer virus, buddy."

He doesn't respond, and you lapse into silence. A video game you'd loved for ages was now reality. The friendships you'd formed with the people who'd lived in your home were now part of an erased timeline. Your boyfriend of said erased timeline still remembers you and is probably blaming Frisk for ruining his happiness. That's a hell of a lot to take in... Wait.

"Wait, wait, wait. Oh my god," you groan. You'd just remembered. You would actually love to pay someone to forget.

You'd had a huge crush on Sans before you'd even met him. As a pixelated video game character, you'd liked him. Not only was that idea beyond creepy now that you know he's a real person, but you have some now intensely embarrassing memories of reading Reader x Sans fanfiction. Self indulgent fantasies of yourself making him laugh, making him jump, making him blush. You'd seen drawings of Sans with smiles, tears, a million different outfits, sharp teeth, a glowing blue tongue, and, completely by accident, with a glowing blue.... Nope. That was not a thought you were going to allow into your mind.

"Well. Those are perhaps memories I could do without," you mutter to yourself. Or maybe to Gaster, if he was still there. Kinda hard to tell.

Putting it in that perspective though, you feel like you should've guessed that something strange was going on. Aside from the obvious music, you should have known you'd come to love the monsters too quickly. Sure, they were all nice people - but you had felt like they were family instantly. You were almost angry that you hadn't put everything together on your own.

That's not all you're feeling. Anger was there, of course, directed both at yourself and Flowey, for ruining such a happy ending. Sorrow for the loss of the times you'd spent with your friends. Worry about Frisk and Sans, who would both be devastated by the reset. Fear for everyone, especially regarding whatever Gaster was planning - sure, he seemed nice enough, but you know very, very little about the man himself. The game itself gave you only bits and pieces, and the various headcanons hadn't all been very good for your situation. But deep, deep down? The feeling you were desperately trying not to acknowledge?

Happiness. Joy, even. You'd loved the game, loved the characters, loved everything. It had ended far too soon and you'd been left wanting more. Always, always more. And now you get to play a part in saving the people you'd come to love? Well, you know why you're happy. But you shouldn't be. You shouldn't be because it meant the people you loved were in danger, and the thrill you got at being able to save them sent a wave of guilt over you.

Maybe it just meant that you were a shitty person. What kind of person feels happy when the people they care about are in pain, anyways? You don't deserve to be happy when they're sad.

**I believe I mentioned that time is of the essence?**

"Oh, hey, you're still here?"

**Obviously. Now will you move? We have a very limited window.**

"Right, sorry."

You shake your head, a physical method of shaking off your mental stress. Despite your misgivings about your happiness at being able to save everybody, Gaster had said that they needed you. You're sure it won't matter that you want to save them for selfish reasons alongside more altruistic ones.

You grab a duffle bag and start throwing things in. A couple of changes of clothing, jackets and socks for both you and Frisk, your laptop and phone, other miscellaneous items. Luckily, Ferrin has retreated to her room by the time you get downstairs. You aren't sure that it's necessary, but you pack water and food anyway, things that'll last. You're as ready as you're going to get but there's one last thing to do here.

"Hey, Ferrin?" you say, knocking on her door.

"You can come in, what's up?" Is her muffled reply.

You push open the door and see that she's swung her desk chair around to face you. Man, this wasn't going to be an easy one....

"I'm... going to be gone for a few days," you say.

"Uh.... right now?" she asks, looking puzzled.

"Yeah. I'm leaving right now."

"Okay look, I know you're stressed out about the new book, but running away isn't gonna solve anything, you know?" She looks less puzzled and more concerned.

"Jesus fucking - No, goddamn it, that isn't it. I'm not running away from the book, okay?"

"Then what the hell are you doing? You're just gonna leave? Why?"

"I can't tell you," you admit, looking away from her. Damn it, you should've come up with some kind of lie to tell her.

"You can't tell me, or you won't tell me? What's going on, [your name]?"

"A lot of shit, actually. I can't tell you. I swear, it's to protect you. I'm gonna be gone.... well, I'm not really sure how long it's gonna take.

"I am a goddamn adult! You don't need to treat me like I'm a kid! Are you in trouble or something?" Ferrin shouts, looking angry.

"I. Can't. Tell. You," you growl. There's no way in hell she's going to come with you underground. You're not pulling her into this mess.

Ferrin takes a breath like she's about to shout again, then lets it out slowly, slumping in her chair.

"Is it 'cause you don't trust me?"

"No, no, Ferrin, I swear that isn't it. I just.... can I ask you to trust me? I can't tell you anything. But I promise, I'll be fine."

She sighs, looking up at you. "Alright, fine. Something's been up with you all day. You promise me you're not gonna go and do something stupid?"

"Nah, it's probably gonna be stupid. You know me," you joke. The looks she gives you tells you she isn't appreciating your attempt at humor.

"How long are you going to be gone?"

".... Not too sure."

"Riiight. Where are you going?"

".... Can't tell you."

"For chrissake... Okay, alright, I'm gonna trust you on this but damn I wish you'd give me some more information. Will you at least contact me every once in a while, let me know you're okay?"

You're pretty sure that your phone isn't going to work underground, but she sounds so worried, you can't bring yourself to deny her. "Yeah, I'll send you texts, okay?"

Ferrin stands up and hugs you tightly. "You're sure you'll be alright?"

"I swear, I'll be fine. I'm gonna be home before you know it," you reassure her, hugging her back.

"If you get hurt... If you don't text me, if you don't come back here with a damn good explanation for this, I'm gonna kill you," she says, voice tight.

You chuckle. "With a threat like that, I'll be too scared to do anything else."

"You'd better be," she says, letting go of you.

"I'll see you soon kiddo," you tell her, smiling.

"Good luck," she says. She's not smiling, but at least she doesn't seem to be angry anymore. Knowing you might not be coming back, knowing this might not work out... You're tempted to stay. But there are people who need you. And Ferrin will be happy to meet them again, you know it.

"Thanks. I'm headed out now, I'll text you once I get there," you say, hand on her door handle.

"Okay. See you soon."

"See ya."

You head out to your car, ready to go straight to Mt. Ebbot before you realize that there's something you've forgotten. You turn towards the town instead. The hole leading into the underground was pretty deep, and a sprained ankle was the last thing you needed.

You park in front of the hardware store and walk inside. In front of the rope, you pause. How high had the ceiling been? You'd really been paying more attention to the imminent death by falling rocks than to the height.

"How can I help ya, [your name]?"

"I'm look- " you begin, turning towards the employee. You choke on your words when you see the face of the man who'd nearly gutted you. He looks pleasant, friendly even.

"I'm sorry?" he asks, puzzled. For a moment, your mind replaces his current, rather friendly expression with the one he'd worn as he threatened you, and you have to hold down a shudder.

"Oh - I, uh, sorry, you looked like someone I knew for a m-moment there. I'm just looking for some rope, got to fix up.... the, uh, trees. One of the branches got damaged, needs some support."

"Trees, huh? Glad to hear you're planning to do something with that old orchard. Is the branch a heavy one?" he asks, turning to regard the ropes. It's easier to talk to him when he isn't looking at you head on.

"Yeah, it is. Probably weighs a good hundred pounds or so? And I need it to last a while, so whatever can hold the most weight would be best."

He nods and grabs one of the spools. "This is your best bet right here. How much are you gonna need?"

"I'm worried about the rest of the trees, so maybe.... a hundred feet? Just to, you know, make sure?" You weren't a terrible liar, but when you're standing next to someone who'd tried to kill you who didn't even remember that he'd done it, you're too on edge to think clearly.

"A hundred? Seems like a bit much, but your call," he says, shrugging. You can head up on front, I'll bring it up once I've got it cut and bagged for you."

You agree and thank him before walking away, glad to escape. As you wait up front, you hear a voice call your name.

"Hey Abe," you say, smiling.

"Hello, it's been a while, what have you been up to?" he asks, coming to a stop before you.

"Nothing much, just writing," you reply. In all honesty, with the strangeness in your head caused by all of your memories, you aren't really very sure what's been going on.

"Same old same old, huh? I hear you."

"What are you here for?"

"Ah, just some needed something to fix the roof. You looked like you were thinking about something important earlier. Penny for your thoughts?"

"Nothing much going on up there," you say. "Just thinking about a few things."

"Anything I can do to help you with those things? I know you've got a lot on your plate."

"No, I....Actually... Abe?" you ask, an idea coming to mind.

"Yes?"

"Would you mind doing me a... pretty strange favor?"

"That's gonna depend on what it is."

"Nothing too out there, I promise. It's just, I'm headed out of town for a few days, and I promised Ferrin I'd send her texts while I'm gone. Only thing is, I'm not sure I'll have cellphone service or Internet where I'm headed."

"Okay. So what can I do about that?"

"I know this is strange but could you maybe pretend to be me? Just for a little while, you know. So she won't worry?"

Abe looks you in the eye, probably trying to figure out what's going on. "That's a pretty odd request, [your name]."

"I know. Trust me, I know."

"You planning to do something I should be trying to stop as sheriff of the town?"

"No! Of course not," you say, frowning.

"Good. You planning to do something I should be trying to stop as your friend?"

You pause for just a moment. It's not a lie, exactly.... "No, not that either. I know it's weird, trust me, I know. But I promise you, I'm not going to do anything that you'll regret allowing."

Abe sighs and rubs his face. "Alright. I don't like it, but alright. Give me your phone."

"Thank you," you say, handing him the device. "I owe you big time."

"What you owe me is an explanation. When you get back, that is."

You grin gratefully. "Trust me, you'll get your explanation. Thank you, Abe."

"You're welcome. I'll keep sending her texts until you get back, okay?"

"Yes, please and thank you. Give it a few hours, then tell her I've arrived. She doesn't know where I'm off to, so no need to pretend to know that."

"There'd better be a darn good reason for this," Abe says seriously.

"I promise you, there is."

Abe leaves as the man brings up your rope. You smile, pretend like he doesn't outright terrify you, and pay.

 

**  
\------------------------  
  
  
**

Mountain climbing gives you far, far too much time to think. This is ridiculous after all. You were climbing a mountain, looking for monsters you'd befriended in another timeline who were also characters in one of your favorite games. Oh, and one of them was communicating with you via your laptop. Nobody else - including, by the way, the monsters you were going to find - would even know who you were talking about if you mentioned him. You should be checking into the nearest psychiatric hospital, not climbing a mountain to your near certain doom. Thoughts like these keep creeping into your mind, and you very nearly head back a few times, but you keep going. If there was even a slight chance that this was real, you have to do it. Aside from your own personal motivations, if this is real, there are two people you care about who need your help. Frisk is a kid, no matter what they have or haven't done. A kid shouldn't have to carry the fate of an entire species on their back. And Sans is a very broken, very tired adult whom you care about deeply. If you have the power to save them, it would be beyond selfish of you not to do so.

You shake off your thoughts and continue climbing. You've only got a vague idea of where you're headed, put together from your memories of how the underground should be. Your 'map' is a strange combination of the places you've actually been and where you'd been in the game. Another strange thought, that. You were about to go into a place you'd first seen in a video game, after all.

  
  
You're tired and out of breath by the time you finally reach another clearing. You take a moment to lean up against a tree and take a few gulps of water before looking around. Ahead of you lies the huge, dark hole you know to lead underground. You almost decide to look over the edge before you realize how dumb that would be on your part. The rocks had been unstable enough for Flowey to collapse them before, your weight might be enough to do the same. You were substantially heavier than Frisk, after all.

  
  
Instead, you reach into your bag and grab the rope. You tied one end firmly to the tree nearest to the hole, then hold onto it tightly as you edge towards the lip of the hole. You actually do reach the edge without falling in, which surprises you. Unfortunately, you've gained nothing from your bravery because you can't see a thing. It's certainly bright enough that you feel like you should be able to see something. Maybe this is the barrier Sans mentioned? You're trying to figure out if that's even possible when the inevitable happens and the rocks crumble underneath you. You shout in surprise and grab onto the rope. You jerk to a stop about ten feet down, jolting your shoulder in the process.

  
  
"Dear fucking god, that hurt," you hiss through clenched teeth. It's probably not dislocated, but it does hurt like hell.

  
You look below you and still can't see anything. Resigning yourself, you descend hand over hand into the pit. You shudder as you pass through what can only be described as a malevolent chill that cuts straight through you. As soon as you pass through that, you can see below you just fine. The wide patch of buttercups lies under you, maybe forty feet below. Looking up, it appears the same as before. You frown and stretch out your hand. Your fingers almost immediately meet a dead end, some kind of blockade that won't allow you to go back through. So it had been the barrier after all. If the caster had been anything like the spell, Asgore had been right. They weren't a nice person.

  
You continue down, since that's now your only option. As you get closer to the bottom, you realize that you can hear quiet sobbing accompanied by a voice that you'd recognize anywhere. It sends a chill down your spine. The sobs must be Frisk's then, and if Flowey was speaking to them then Frisk needs you now. You drop the last five or so feet and move stealthily towards the now clear voice.

  
"Wowie Frisk, you sure are dumb! Letting the smiley trash bag come down here - didn't cha know your old friend Flowey doesn't like company? Oh, and don't even get me started on his date - didja know they tried to befriend me? Huh? Why didn't cha tell them that I don't want any friends, Frisk?"

  
You come around the corner just as Flowey summons his magic bullets - "Just run into the friendliness pellets!" - and you can see Frisk huddled on the ground, unmoving.

  
"Flowey!" you shout, hoping to distract him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the story will now be taking place mostly as a single, unified story instead of individual story parts, the very beginning of the chapter may have a brief, italicised summary/the last couple of lines in the previous chapter, just to make it easier to remember what's going on. 
> 
> Okay, so a bit of a guide to how things will be formatted for characters who don't speak, since we're about to have three of them. This is from now on, and does NOT apply to previous chapters.
> 
> Gaster's speech: Bolded AND underlined.
> 
> Chara's speech: Italicized
> 
> Frisk's speech: Will now be underlined, just to make it clear what's going on.
> 
>  
> 
> I love the two songs I mentioned, you guys should check them out if you haven't already!  
> The first song mentioned is Drop Pop Candy, "sung" by Papyrus and Sans! You can find it here: https://soundcloud.com/luxiay-kuragon/drop-pop-candy-sans-papyrus  
> The second is a Sans version of "Stronger Than You" from Steven Universe, and a personal favorite of mine. You can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GPBBo1neb2U
> 
>  
> 
> Aside from that, I hope you enjoyed the break before the angst! Things are about to get serious. Also, Gaster is now your very bossy computer virus, and I find this hilarious. Ah well, at least he's helping you out. For now.


	19. Small Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're underground, you've saved Frisk, and everything is good. Or it should be.

_You come around the corner just as Flowey summons his magic bullets - "Just run into the friendliness pellets!" - and you can see Frisk huddled on the ground, unmoving._

  
_"Flowey!" you shout, hoping to distract him._

 

\---------------------------------------

 

"Why howdy, who are - **you** ," he says, now staring at you. "How the fuck did you get here?"

"Kids shouldn't cuss," you say, striding forward. The same sense of confidence as you'd felt in the parking lot is now flowing through you.

"Do I look like a child to you?" Flowey hisses, backing away from you.

"Yup. After all, you are.... Asriel."

The name has the effect you were hoping for - Flowey freezes and stares at you in shock. You dart forward and gather Frisk into your arms. They're a pretty light kid, luckily.

"You.... You don't belong here," Flowey says.

"Probably not."

"How did you know that name? Frisk didn't tell you."

"Not gonna tell you that, Flowey. Now let me get on my merry way before Toriel shows up and incinerates your ass."

A grin slowly spreads onto his face, and you struggle not to back up.

"You don't actually know anything, do you? You idiot! Toriel has already passed by, she's home by now."

Well, shit. "Ah, well, that's fine too. Not like I need her help. I can take on a little tiny bitch flower any day. I'm sure I've got weed killer in here somewhere..."

Flowey's face twists into an awful expression, something between melting and pulling the most horrifying face possible. He opens his mouth to speak, and then stops. His face returns to his neutral, grinning facade. When he next speaks, his voice is back to being falsely cheerful.

"Oh well, no need to be so snappy! I see my little buddy Frisk is in good hands now. I'll leave you two alone then!" With that, he disappears back underground, leaving you with a still sobbing child and a shit ton of questions. You don't like that he was so willing to leave the two of you alone, but first thing's first.

"Hey kiddo," you say.

They don't seem to hear you, so you set them down and crouch in front of them. They've got their hands up over their eyes,probably trying to block out what was going on. You've never spoken to Frisk about the resets but it's apparent that they don't enjoy them any more than Sans does. Or at least, they don't anymore.

You shake off the thought. Best not to dwell on things like that. You reach out and grab onto Frisk's hands, trying to pry them gently from their eyes. It isn't long before they comply, arms falling to their sides. Poor kid's obviously been crying for a while - the skin around their eyes is puffy and red, their nose running. The tears keep coming from closed eyes even once their hands no longer cover their face.

"Frisk? It's me, [your name]. C'mon kid, it's all gonna be okay."

They start at the sound of your name, eyes flying wide open. Frisk stares at you in utter disbelief.

"Yeah, I know. Pretty weird, huh?"

"How?"

It's your turn to stare at them in disbelief. You'd been under the impression that the kid couldn't speak, but you guess you've been proven wrong. Their voice is high and rough, probably from the crying.

"What the - you can? I - uh, sorry, rude question. Yeah, kinda a long story."

Tell me, they sign.

"Hmm. Well, back when - wait, that's in the future now - but it's not gonna happen - uh..... in the previous... timeline? Timeline, yeah, in the previous timeline Sans told me about the resets and all of that. So I know about those. That last day, when we went down here, we pissed off Flowey and he reset."

But how did you remember? Nobody but me remembers.

"Doesn't Sans remember?"

Only sort of. He has this thing that sends stuff back to the beginning. When he reads it he remembers everything.

"Oh. Well, I sorta had that, except somebody else put the information together for me."

Who?

"Uh... This is gonna sound strange, but he kinda doesn't exist anymore. At least I'm pretty sure nobody remembers him. Ever heard of a W. D. Gaster?"

You've met Gaster? Frisk asks, looking shocked.

"Oh hey, you do know who he is? Yeah, he's the one who reminded me. Sort of like Sans' machine. So now I remember everything."

Gaster doesn't do things unless he has a selfish reason. He wants something from you.

"He did say something about the resets and saves screwing with the stability of time. I think it was basically if they keep happening then time itself is gonna be in trouble."

Oh. He did say that to me once, yeah. What do you have to do to fix it?

"Stop the resets permanently. Something about saving lost souls? Any idea what we're supposed to do?"

I don't know..... Frisk signs.

"Then don't worry about it. If he went to all of this effort, he's not gonna let us mess this up. For now how about we go find Toriel? She's the one who guards the Ruins, right? Plus, she'll probably have some leftover pie. I'm starving, how about you kiddo?"

Frisk hesitates for a moment, still looking up at you. You grab some tissues from your bag and wipe the tears and snot off of their face.

Why are you being so nice to me? they ask.

"Dunno why I wouldn't be nice to you Frisk. You're a pretty sweet kid."

If you know about the resets... Didn't Sans tell you what I did?

"He might've mentioned a few things."

So you know that in some timelines I'm a murderer?

You hesitate for just a moment. This really isn't a topic you want to discuss.

"Yeah kiddo, I'm aware."

So why?

"Frisk. You're eleven years old. If I'd fallen down here at eleven, I probably would've done the same. The monsters look scary. Humans are raised to think that anything not like them is a danger to be gotten rid of. So no, I don't blame you. Besides, you've learned your lesson, right?"

Frisk nods desperately, like they need you to believe them.

"Alright then. End of discussion. You ready for some of Toriel's cooking?"

They nod and take your offered hand. You lead them out of the small room, feeling almost guilty. You hadn't lied, per se... But you hadn't been entirely honest. Most of your ability to forgive Frisk came down to just not thinking about it.

The two of you walk down a short hallway and into a room with a double stairway leading upwards. In front of the stairway lies a bed of what appear to be red leaves. Frisk tugs you towards them, stopping just in front of them.

Did Sans tell you about my save points?

"I think he mentioned them, yeah. Why?"

I'm going to use one now. But I'm gonna try something...

Frisk turns their full attention to what is, as far as you can tell, an empty space. They appear to be focusing, so you leave them to it, observing the room. A few moments later, they tug on your hand.

"What's up kid? Oh, hey, that's new," you say, looking at the little yellow star now hovering near where Frisk had been.

It was there before, you just couldn't see it.

"Okay... so why can I see it now?"

I added you to the spell. If it works like I think it does, you'll be able to remember what happened if we jump backwards and the timeline will automatically reset if you die.

"I mean, I appreciate it, but next time warn me, okay?"

Okay. Can we go see Toriel now?

"Kiddo, I mean it. Don't go doing stuff like that without asking the other person first, okay?"

But it's a good thing that I added you?

"I'm not too sure about that one. But that's not the point. If you're going to do something like that again, ask me first."

Okay.

You're not entirely sure that you got through to them, but it's fine you guess. Being able to remember time jumping around would probably be very useful. And, of course, not dying sounded nice, but considering the monumental task you've taken on it also sounds improbable.

Up the stairs and through the door is the very first puzzle. You've got no idea how to solve it, but luckily Frisk does. They step on a few switches, and the door in front of you opens.

"Nice," you say, and they smile sadly back at you.

I've seen Toriel do this one a lot.

You mentally scold yourself as you follow them into the next room. All of the puzzles -or traps, to label them more accurately - have been reactivated. You suppose Toriel must have deactivated them before leaving the Ruins before, which is why you and Sans hadn't had any troubles. Luckily, Frisk  already knows the answers to the puzzles, and you're mostly left trailing along behind them.  

A few rooms in, you catch glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Unless you're much mistaken...

"Whimsun, is that you?" you call.

You're so happy to see her again that you forget for a moment that she's not going to remember you. The look on her face, sheer terror and panic, reminds you instantly. She flits away as quickly as possible, leaving you stunned. You'd known that nobody was going to remember you, but seeing it first hand is a different thing entirely. It gives you some idea of how bad it is for Sans and Frisk. You must have paused for a bit too long to process this, because the next thing you're aware of is Frisk pulling on your hand and staring up at you in concern.

Are you okay?

"Sorry Frisk, it was a little bit rattling. Oh, hey, Sans would love that one."

They flinch just a bit at the sound of his name.

"Something wrong, kiddo?"

No... Sort of. He's gonna be mad at me.

They look like they're about to cry again, so you crouch down and look them in the eye.

"Kiddo, it's gonna be fine. You haven't done anything wrong. Sans just doesn't know that yet, but he will, okay? No need to cry. I'm gonna make this better for you, I promise."

They nod and wipe their eyes. They grab your hand and lead you forward, on to the next room. As you exit, you catch a glimpse of something golden where Whimsun had fled. They appear to be gold coins. You pick them up and tuck them into your pocket before following Frisk. When you pause to investigate a puzzle, they dart ahead, and you follow behind. They take the lead through more rooms, eventually disappearing into a side room. You walk up after them and pause in the doorway. The room is odd, not for the vines at the opposite end but for the strange altar, surrounded by more of the red leaves from earlier. Frisk is digging around in a bowl placed on top of the altar.

They run back to you from the bowl, holding out their hand excitedly. They drop a small candy into the palm of your hand, looking at you in anticipation.

"Oh ho, a candy? For me?"

Yes!

"Thank you kiddo," you say, ruffling their hair.

You walk into the room that they've exited and notice the sign next to what is evidently a candy bowl.

"Please take one, huh?" you say, looking back at Frisk. "I dunno Frisk, looks like you broke the rules here."

Nuh uh! I took one for me and one for you, they sign, looking indignant.

You laugh. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Thank you for the candy."

They cross their arms and huff at you.

"Awh, come on, I said I'm sorry."

They shake their head, still pouting.

"Alright then, how about a piggyback ride to make up for it?"

They nod and grin widely, running up to you. You heave them onto your back and continue walking along. They give you instructions, which mostly consist of nudging surprisingly light rocks with your foot onto pressure pads and stepping exactly where they tell you to.

"These puzzles are pretty easy, huh?"

They nod against your back as you enter a room with a table and another glowing save point. Frisk pulls on your shirt and points down. You let them down and they touch the save point, saving your progress.

After they've finished, they sign, The first real fight is in the next room.

"The first real fight, huh? Oh, that reminds me, any idea why we've only run into Whimsun so far?"

If I leave the first room late enough then most of the monsters have gone home.

"Ahh. Got it. So we're about to have to fight who exactly?" You already know the answer, of course. You'd fought Napstablook after all. But the idea of having to explain that you'd done so in a video game wasn't very appealing, so you've withheld that information. Frisk doesn't really need to know, after all.

A ghost monster named Napstablook. He's really nice, you'll like him. I'm not sure how the battle will go though, since there are two of us...

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Come on, let's get going. Toriel’s cooking is calling my name, I'm starving."

The two of you pass the table and the cheese to enter the next room and find the ghost monster exactly where Frisk had said he would be. As you get closer, you can hear him saying "zzzz" out loud.

"Hello?"

"Zzzz zzzz (Please go away)."

"Hello? Mr. Ghost? We need to get past you, if that's alright."

"Zzzzzzz."

You pause. You honestly can't remember how you're supposed to go about doing this. Frisk moves for you, reaching out like they're going to move Napstablook by force.

He moves abruptly away from them, and you can suddenly see your HP from the corner of your eye. Is this a fight?

"Hey, Napstablook, right? Nice to meet you," you say. Perhaps you can avoid fighting altogether.

The answer is apparently not, because he just looks even more miserable and tear drops begin to rain down on you. They're far apart and easy to dodge though, luckily for you.

"Woah, woah, no need for that. Although that is a pretty cool attack," you add.

"Oh...... thank you.........." he says, and instead of an attack you can see the words 'Really not feeling up to it right now, sorry.' for a brief moment.

"That was cool too. You're a pretty interesting guy, how about we stop fighting and be friends instead?"

"If you thought that was neat, I want to show you something......" he says. More tears flow from his eyes, but this time they're falling... upwards? You watch in astonishment as they form a hat.

".......What do you think?......."

"That's so freaking awesome! How the hell did you do that?"

"Oh..... I'm glad that you liked it....." he says, and your HP bar disappears as suddenly as it had appeared. Thank goodness.

"..... I come to the Ruins because nobody's ever around....... But I met somebody nice.... Oh, I'm rambling again. Let me get out of your way......"

"Oh no, it's fine," you say as he fades away.

"Uh, did I do something wrong?" you ask Frisk.

No, he's always like that. He's just shy, it's okay.

"If you say so kiddo. We almost to Toriel's?"

Yeah, just a bit further. We have to make a detour though, they sign, leading you towards a small room. Inside are a good deal of spider webs, two of which contain a sign.

 

"Spider donuts and spider cider, huh?

 

We should buy some, but we don't have enough money....

 

"If it's that big a deal, do you think they'd accept a donation? I mean, we only have a few of those coins but it's not like we'll need them, right?"

 

I've never tried that before, Frisk admits.

 

"Well, no time like the present," you respond, dropping the coins into the web. 

 

A spider crawls down from the ceiling, towards the coins. "That's a donation, okay? We wish you luck getting out of the Ruins," you inform it.  

 

It doesn't respond, of course, but it does take the coins and leave, so you suppose the message must have gone through. 

 

The two of you only walk a bit further before you emerge into the room with the huge tree you'd seen with Sans. It looks nearly dead, leaves lying on the ground all around it, but then again it is autumn. Nearly winter, in fact.

Frisk saves again before the two of you turn towards the door.

"This is Toriel's house, isn't it?"

Yeah. Whenever she passes by without finding me I usually just knock.

 

"Alrighty then, let's see if she'll let us in, huh?" you say, walking up to the door. You knock and then move back to wait.

A muffled "One moment please," comes from the house. You're glad to hear Toriel's voice, until you remember that to her, both of you are complete strangers. You watch the door swing open with no small amount of sorrow and worry.

"Greetings, how may I -" Toriel begins, trailing off as her eyes settle on you. She gives Frisk a quick glance before her gaze comes back to rest on you. She looks wary and on guard, not a look you've seen before on the friendly monster.

"Hello, I'm so sorry to interrupt you," you say, "This kid and I fell down here a ways back, we've been looking for someone to help us since then?"

Toriel seems torn for a moment before she says, "In that case, won't the two of you please come in? I was just sitting down to supper, would you care to join me?"

"Yes, please. Thank you so much," you say, following her inside, Frisk trailing along behind you.

The house is warm and full of the smell of baking, nothing like it had been when you'd been there before. Toriel leads you into a room to your left and tells you to take a seat at the table before disappearing into the kitchen. She reappears a few seconds later with two plates of food that smell mouthwateringly good.

As she seats herself after serving you, she says, "I hope you like spinach ham quiche?"

"If it tastes half as good as it looks and smells, I'm sure I'll love it," you say.

She gives you a tense smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. Dinner is eaten mostly in silence - Toriel seems unwilling to speak to you, Frisk can't communicate with her using ASL, and you get the uneasy feeling that you probably shouldn't speak.

You do, however, help by clearing off the table. As you pile the dishes into the sink to wash them, Toriel's hand accidentally knocks the knife she'd used to cut the pie off of the counter.

You move to grab the falling knife - dumb, really dumb, you know not to do that - and end up catching it blade first. The sharp blade of the knife digs into your skin as you straighten up and put it down on the counter. Your fingers, however, are barely cut at all. The only evidence of your blunder is a thin shallow line of red across your fingers.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" Toriel asks, taking your hand gently between her own.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I, uh... must have caught it just right."

She stares down at your fingers for a moment before looking away.

"I thought as much. You can use magic. Defensive magic."

"Oh, is that what that is? I mean I kinda knew but I didn't know - "

Toriel cuts off your rambling by dropping your hand and standing up, expression dark.

"I must leave now. There is.... something that I must do. I will return soon, you are welcome to the room that Frisk is in."

With that, she sweeps out of the room, and the click of the front door tells you that she's left the house.

She's acting strangely, but you suppose that's only to be expected. It is much easier to forgive and forget the horrors of the past when you're looking at a kid. A full grown adult, on the other hand, must have reminded her of the humans who had sealed them down here.

You sigh and wash off the knife. You're drying it when you notice the reflective surface shining back at you. It's a nice knife, well sharpened and taken care of. You take a moment to admire it, then pause. A knife would be useful in the underground, wouldn't it? You're sure there must be a use for it, even if you aren't planning to hurt anyone with it.

Wait, this is ridiculous. You already have a pocket knife, why would you need one of Toriel's? You slowly put the knife down as you realize that there's someone you'd forgotten about. Whether by design or simple accident, you hadn't remembered Chara until just now. Information on Chara was almost as dissatisfying as the information on Gaster, but you know enough to realize that your sudden fascination with knives might have a more sinister meaning.

_What, you think I'm knife happy?_

"What the - " you shout, whipping around. There's nobody in the room besides you, but you'd definitely heard a voice.

_Come on, surely even you can't be this dumb_ , the voice says, and you realize that you can't actually hear it.

_That's ri~ight! I'm in your head! You and me and Frisk, we're all gonna be the best of friends! That is, before I use the both of you to kill them all._

"Chara," you growl. "What the fuck do you want?"

_Ooh, language, language. There are children present, you know?_

"Mass murdering demons don't really count," you reply. "What the hell are you doing in my head anyways?"

_Hmm. You know, I don't think I'm going to answer that one, since you insulted me. Now, pick up that knife, won't you?_

Your arm moves towards the knife, and you pull your entire body back to avoid it.

"Oh hell no, you are not going to use me to kill people."

_But why not? We can spare your friends and just kill the rest. They don't really mean anything to you anyways._

"Sorry, but I've got a strict no murdering people policy."

You feel rising frustration from Chara as they attempt to move your body towards the knife. The struggle to not move isn't as difficult as you would have predicted. Sure, you can feel some of yourself straining towards the knife, but the vast majority of your body is completely under your control. With some effort, you manage to turn away and walk towards the doorway. Chara's control gets weaker as yours gets stronger, and by the time you've reached the room where you'd eaten dinner, they're reduced to an irritated presence in the back of your mind.

"Looks like you can't take over my body," you say, grinning.

_I wouldn't bet on it._

"You didn't accomplish anything just now, what makes you think you'll do any better next time?"

_Oh, simple. You see, I'm already here. I won't leave, I won't vanish, I won't suddenly decide to become a good person. I'll just wait patiently until you let me in on your own._

In hindsight, speaking to demonic voices in your head probably isn't high on your list of good ideas. Ah well. You brush off their words as nothing more than the idle threats of a thwarted child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE thank you to Cookiez, who informed me that someone had taken my story and was presenting it as though they had written it on quotev. The thief did take it down when I asked, so that whole mess is resolved. But thank you so much, I wouldn't have found out on my own!
> 
> Toriel is reacting differently from normal, yes. There are a couple of reasons that I feel like she wouldn't be her normal friendly self, mainly because of your magic and because you are an adult. While I realize she's a pretty friendly goat lady, I doubt that she'd be as friendly towards someone with those traits as she is towards a child. (Especially since that child reminds her of her deceased child.)


	20. Guardian of The Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toriel is a sweetheart, but she can't let a full grown adult human pass into the rest of the underground.
> 
> (Also, I've made the assumption here that you've never killed anyone in-game, I hope no one minds!)

You put Frisk to bed early, then retire to the living room. The kid needs to get some rest, and besides that, you need some time to think by yourself. It has slowly been dawning on you that this is your new reality. You have been pulled into the tangled mess of resets and death that has caused everyone - but especially Frisk and Sans - so much pain. And, while you were on the subject of Sans, you were incredibly worried about him. No matter what he'd said about finding you again, you'd seen into his soul. You know how the resets have affected him. After losing a timeline that he'd chosen to believe would be the last one, is he really going to be alright?

 

"[Your name]. Is Frisk in bed already?"

 

Toriel's voice interrupts your worried thoughts and you look up to see her standing in front of you. "Yes Toriel, I put them to bed a while ago, they're probably asleep already. Why, did you need to talk to them?"

 

"No, that is fine. May I speak with you outside?"

 

You nod and follow her out into the yard. Toriel turns and faces you.

 

"You are not a child."

 

You nod.

 

"You are an adult human."

 

Another nod.

 

"And you can use magic. The very same magic that locked us down here so many years ago. Do you know, you even look a bit like the human who sealed us in these caves? Somewhere around the eyes, I think."

 

"I don't know how to use it very-"

 

"That is of no consequence. You are a danger, and as the Guardian of the Ruins I cannot let you pass."

 

You'd figured as much, but hearing it is something else entirely. "Toriel I don't want to fight you!"

 

"I will care for the child. Please.... forgive me," she says, voice tight.

 

Fire hems you in on all sides as Toriel summons flames into the palms of her hands. A bar appears in the corner of your vision showing your HP. Holy hell, she couldn't actually want to kill you?

 

"C'mon Toriel, y-you aren't s-serious, are you?" you stammer, eyes glued to her hands.

 

Expression cold, she begins the fight. Balls of fire race through the air towards you, and you scramble out of their way. A few nick your clothes, one singing your hand. It stings, but no more than touching a hot pan would. Your HP still goes down by one point though. Looks like you only get ten chances before you're in real trouble.

 

"Toriel, I'm not gonna do this!" you shout, backing as far away as the walls of fire will allow.

 

She doesn't respond, and you have to dodge another barrage of fire. You lose another point as she hits the same arm, the pain causing you to gasp. The burns are minor, but damn do they sting. You think you can see her flinch out of the corner of your eye when she hits you. Thank goodness, maybe she doesn't really want to fight you.

 

"Frisk would be really sad if they saw us fighting," you remind her.

 

She flinches again, but more fire races towards you anyway. You actually manage to dodge all of them and you take a moment to be proud of yourself.

 

"This isn't like you, fighting someone who can't fight back," you say as she takes a moment to ready her next attack.

 

"You do not know anything about me! Who are you to say that I do not always act as such?" she shouts, anger breaking through her cold facade.

 

Ropes of flame extend from her hands, criss crossing around you. You take one of them in the side, knocking you to the ground. Your shield prevents you from taking most of the damage, but the burn stings like hell. You get back up anyways. You can't fail here, you've still got things to do.

 

"Please, stop this! We should be friends, not enemies!"

 

"Fight me!" she shouts, pillars of fire racing towards you. You dive to the side, just barely avoiding the flames. You skid to a stop just before the fiery barrier, singeing the side of your shoe.

 

"I'm not going to fight you damn it!" you shout back. "Toriel, come on, this is ridiculous!"

 

"You are dangerous! I cannot allow you to pass!"

 

Fireballs fly from her direction once more and you do your best to dodge them all. One catches the edge of your hair, and the smell of burning hair distracts you momentarily. Your attention is off of Toriel just long enough for a fireball to catch you square in the chest. It knocks you onto your back and you curl in on your wounds. It's probably not as bad as it should be, since you're not smelling your own burnt skin, but it still hurts like hell.

 

"This would not have happened if you had just fought me! Now, stand up and fight," Toriel says from above you.

 

You gasp in a breath and rise shakily to your feet. "I'm not... fucking christ this hurts! I'm not gonna fight you Toriel!"

 

"Why? Why will you not fight me?"

 

More fireballs fly past you, but they're a good deal slower than before. You dodge them easily, even in your damaged state.

 

"Because I don't want to hurt anyone."

 

"I....  do not believe you. Humans are the ones who sent us down here! Humans killed many, many thousands of monsters! Why would you not do the same?"

 

"I didn't hurt anyone on my way to your house, did I? That was years ago! Humans are not the same as they were then and I'm not the same person who sealed you down here!"

 

Toriel pauses for a moment, and the flames blocking you in waver.

 

"But there are many out there who would hurt you! Who would hurt the child! What will you do if one of them is not willing to spare you?"

 

She hurls more fire at you, but it's moving just as slowly as before, and none of them even come close to hitting you.

 

"Frisk's a tough kid, we'll be fine! I'll find a way to make it through here without harming anyone, I promise."

 

"I.... I....."

 

Toriel seems unable to continue fighting you, her arms falling limp at her sides.

 

"Toriel, can you trust me? Just a little bit?"

 

Hey eyes move away from you, towards the house. She looks like she's remembering something.

 

"Do you know... I knew the one who locked us in here. They were not kind. They were not good. They were evil, in every sense of the word. They tricked us all, pitted the humans against the monsters just as we had almost signed the treaty that would have ensured we would live in harmony."

 

She pauses, eyes still distant and full of unshed tears.

 

"We very nearly killed a good friend of ours due to their trickery. They stirred old feuds, reopened healing wounds, and eventually the war resumed. There were so few of us left, [your name]. There are so few of us even now. Can you imagine what it is like to watch your friends die for no reason? Can you imagine what it is like to kill, and kill, and kill, knowing that those you fight do not deserve their fates?"

 

"No, I can't," you reply honestly.

 

"I did not think you would. You do not have the correct... aura, I suppose," she says, sighing. She finally looks at you, eyes sad. The walls of flame around you fade into nothingness.

 

"I am not able to kill you. It is clear to me that you more closely resemble that dear friend than the human who sealed us down here. But I warn you - there are others who are more than capable of doing so. The king... Asgore... he will certainly not allow you through."

 

You try not to let your surprise show on your face. You'd expected a warning about Undyne, sure, but Asgore? She picked him of all people to warn you about? A vague memory informs you that she's absolutely right, but you try to comfort her anyways.

 

"I'm sure I'll be able to convince him somehow," you say.

 

"No. You will not be able to. The barrier was created by a horrifying sacrifice that only one of equal power can break. To get through it, seven human souls are required. As of now... if all of the fallen humans have been killed, he will have six. Your soul or Frisk's are all that he needs to break the barrier."

 

You open your mouth to speak before the full impact of her words hit you. Hell, you'd known about the souls - vaguely, at least - but any theorization on your part had been done while you were under the impression  that it had happened in a video game. You can forgive a video game character for killing a child. You aren't sure that you can do the same for a real person.

 

"I apologize, it is a lot to take in," Toriel says when you remain silent. "If it is acceptable... I can protect you, here. If you do not mind staying with such a foolish old lady, we could even be a family of sorts?"

 

She sounds so hopeful. She's a woman who's had everything taken from her, her home above ground, her friends, her children, and finally her husband. It's not fair, you think. Toriel is the kindest person you've ever met - well, aside from Papyrus of course. She's gentle and warm and can't have done anything to deserve this. If you two stay, she'll be happy, and surely she deserves it? You're about to accept her offer - after all, you're sure you can convince her to take the barrier down so you can see Sans and the rest - when it hits you.

 

You can't accept. It would make her happy for the moment, yes. But you have the power to give her back her home aboveground, introduce her to those she would soon call friend, show her that her ex-husband might be worthy of forgiveness... you can't give her back her children, but you can give her a family where she can find new ones.

 

"I... can't," you say, heart heavy.

 

"Oh. I... I understand, [your name]. I suppose it was too much to ask you to live with me after my actions."

 

"No! Toriel, that's not it. I'm honored, honestly I am. It's an honor that you would offer to let me live here, thank you so much. It's just that.... this is going to sound strange, but I have a really good feeling about our chances outside. After all, if all of the monsters are as nice as you, there's no way we'll get hurt."

 

"My child.... oh! My apologies, may I call you that?"

 

"Yeah, of course."

 

"That makes this old lady very happy, thank you. My child, I fear that you are placing too much faith in us. Monsters attacked you on your journey here, did they not?"

 

"Yeah, one did, but it's okay. We're walking into the middle of their home like we belong here after all. Besides, isn't there anyone out there that you trust?" you ask. You know the answer of course, but reminding her of Sans can't hurt.

 

Instead of looking reassured, Toriel actually looks more worried than before. "Yes, there is, but I fear that I have somehow offended him, or worse, that he has been badly injured."

 

"Why do you say that?" you ask, working hard to keep the fear out of your voice. Your fears may have been closer to the mark than you'd thought. Could Sans have done something... drastic in the time since you woke up that morning?

 

"My friend and I meet at a very specific time every afternoon, but he was not there today. He has always been there for the last month and a half, so I fear that whatever kept him from coming today may be dire."

 

You swallow the lump of panic in your throat. "I'm sure he's fine. We'll check for you though, okay?"

 

"I would very much appreciate that," she says. "Would you like to go inside? Your magical defense was very impressive but I fear that I have still caused you a good deal of harm."

 

"What, these? Nah, just some minor burns, really," you reassure her.

 

"Nonetheless, may I heal them for you? I think you would also benefit from some more cinnamon - butterscotch pie."

 

"You know I can't turn down pie," you say, following her back up to the house.

 

She patches you up pretty well, leaving your burns very nearly healed. All that's left are shiny marks where angry red ones had been. You hadn't realized it at the time, probably due to the fire and adrenaline, but the fight really did drain your magic. The pie stops the shivers almost before they begin, filling you with warmth.

 

"I am sorry that I hurt you," Toriel murmurs as she watches you eat.

 

"S'fine," you say through a mouth full of warm gooey pie. "I understand. Humans don't exactly have the best track record."

 

"That is true. I still regret that you were hurt, however. Why did you refuse to fight me back? You could surely have incapacitated me."

 

"I didn't want to hurt you. You were just trying to do the right thing, after all," you say as you place your now empty plate in the sink.

 

Toriel draws you to her in a hug. She's warm and soft, like being hugged by the embodiment of comfort. You hug her back, arms not quite reaching all the way around her back.

 

"I am glad, after all of these years, that the first adult human to fall is one such as yourself," she says.

 

"Oh, I... thank you," you say, choking up a bit. It's probably the highest praise you've ever received, knowing that she thinks that highly of you.

  


The next morning, you wake up to the sound of people in the kitchen. Toriel and Frisk have already prepared breakfast, although from the look of things Frisk was more interested in becoming one with the breakfast materials than eating them.

 

"Kiddo, have you been causing Toriel trouble?"

 

Nuh uh!

 

"No, not at all. Your child has been very helpful."

 

You double take and watch Frisk start giggling as Toriel stares in confusion.

 

"I am sorry, did I say something wrong?"

 

"Uh, Toriel, Frisk isn't my child. I'm just kind of babysitting them for now. I followed them up here and we both fell by accident. I didn't want to leave a kid alone, so they came along with me."

 

"Oh! I am sorry!" Toriel says, embarrassed.

 

"Nah, it isn't a problem really. Frisk's a good kid, I'd be proud if I was their parent," you say, grinning down at Frisk. They smile up at you uncertainly.

 

After breakfast, Toriel excuses herself to go on a round of the Ruins, saying, "With so many humans here, I would hate to miss another that falls!"

 

You clean up the kitchen while Frisk sits down and reads. You come out a bit later to find them staring in the opposite direction, expression blank.

 

"Hey, Frisk?" you ask, looking at them.

 

They blink, eyes slowly coming into focus. Undertale, they sign.

 

Shit. "I must've misunderstood, did you just sign Undertale? I've never heard of it before."

 

Liar. 

 

You sigh and sit down. "Alright, yeah I know what Undertale is. But how do you?"

 

_I told them._

 

You start as Chara's voice echoes in your head. Shit, of course they knew. Being inside of your head probably gave them access to most everything in it.

 

_Pretty much. Not that there's anything interesting in there, of course. You should really consider thinking about the smiley trash bag a bit less. It gets pretty boring._

 

"Great. Fantastic, actually," you sigh.

 

Why didn't you tell me?  Frisk asks

 

"Because it sounds insane? 'Hi, I played a videogame where all of you were the characters?'"

 

_And by the way I used you to murder everyone? Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't tell them._

 

"Excuse me? I never did a no mercy run! Hell, I never even did a neutral run."

 

_You know all about them though, don't you? Did you watch someone else kill them all? Does that really make you any better than them? You might as well have done it yourself._

 

Chara, stop that, Frisk signs.  That was a game, it didn't affect us. I don't care about that, I just wish you'd told me. 

 

"Sorry Frisk. I should've told you, you're right. I'm still trying to figure out all of this, you know?"

 

I know... But next time, tell me the important things please? Is there anything else you haven't told me? 

 

"I will. You know pretty much everything, I think. Oh actually, I hadn't gotten a chance to tell you, Toriel and I fought yesterday. Nothing much happened, I'll give you the details later."

 

I thought something was up. She was acting funny yesterday. 

 

_Frisk you forgive people too easily. Once a liar, always a liar._

 

"Actually kiddo, speaking of secrets, I would've appreciated a warning about our friend here. They tried to convince me to steal one of Toriel's knives last night."

 

Chara! 

 

_What? Knives are useful._

 

Yes but we don't need them anymore, remember? 

 

_Just because you want to play pacifist and not hurt anyone doesn't mean that they'll extend the same courtesy._

 

Chara. 

 

 _Alright, alright. No more knives_ , they grumble. _But I reserve the right to say I told you so._

 

Sorry  about Chara. They sometimes get.... antsy about safety. And I didn't warn you because I didn't know that they could possess you too. There's never been another human down here with me to test it on I guess. 

 

"I actually think that I may have met them before now," you admit. "Remember back in the parking lot of that grocery store? I can't fight like that."

 

Did you really do that Chara? 

 

_Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn't matter._

 

"I would have to disagree, possessing me is really a cause for concern. Heck, I'm surprised you didn't try it during my fight with Toriel, now that I think about it."

 

Chara can only possess people who are feeling extreme emotions like fear or anger. You weren't scared enough of Toriel for them to be able to do it. 

 

 _Thanks for spilling the beans_ , Chara says bitterly.

 

I think they have a right to know. 

 

"Thanks Frisk, that's very helpful. But all of that aside - what do you want to do, kiddo? We need to leave, but are you ready to go back out there?"

 

Frisk hesitates before signing, Yes, I think I am. But.... Sans.

 

"What about him?"

 

He's gonna be angry. I don't want him to be mad at me. 

 

"Frisk, it's okay. He just doesn't know that it isn't your fault. The second that he does, he'll stop being angry. And if it takes him a while to cool down then I'll be there to smack him for you."

 

Frisk giggles. Why would you smack him?

 

" 'Cause he's being a big meanie. I'm gonna protect you Frisk. Even if it is from Sans."

 

You promise? 

 

"Pinky promise," you reply, holding out your pinky finger for Frisk. They take it solemnly, like they're signing a pact in blood.

 

"See? Now I gotta protect you or I'll break the pinky promise. Do you know what happens to people who break pinky promises?"

 

What happens to them? 

 

"They get attacked... by the tickle monster!"

 

You wiggle your fingers and Frisk giggles again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm. Maybe there's a bit more to Chara than just "Super Bad Evil Demon Spawn From Hell" huh?
> 
> The PwP is already up, and can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5459834/chapters/12621653 . Please keep in mind that this is the first time I have attempted PwP, I'm afraid it might not be very good..... Also! the PwP is just that - Porn WITHOUT Plot. You do not need to read it to enjoy the story. It will not be referenced in the story. Nothing will happen in these PwP chapters that will affect the story later on. Feel free to completely ignore their existence if you so choose!


	21. sans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're gonna have a bad time. Now with 2x the skeleton!
> 
> (Also, a note. Gaster's speech will only be underlined and bolded when he is not speaking aloud, as he may at some point in this chapter... Maybe.)

You're exchanging goodbyes with Toriel when she hands you a very, very old cell phone.

 

"With this, you should be able to contact me. Will you please call me every few days, if it is not any trouble to you?"

 

"Of course, Toriel. I'll call you once we find your friend too, okay? Heck, I'll make him get on the phone and explain himself to you."

 

"Thank you my child. As I am sure you are aware, once you have passed through the door you will not be able to return. Therefore this may well be our last goodbye," she says, tears making the fur around her eyes wet.

 

You step forward and throw your arms around her. "Toriel, I'm gonna come back here. You and I are going to go above ground together with everybody else if it's the last thing I do. I swear."

 

"My child that is no easy task! Please, you will only hurt yourself."

 

"I'll be fine, I promise. I'm gonna fix what's wrong here."

 

"I see that I cannot stop you. Perhaps stubbornness is not always to your benefit, however."

 

You laugh a bit. "You know, maybe that's true. But if I manage it, do you promise you'll go with us?"

 

"I would not miss it for the world."

 

You and Toriel break your embrace, and she turns to Frisk to give them a few stern warnings. Brush their teeth, watch out for strangers, eat their veggies, the list goes on and on. If Frisk manages to remember all of it you'll be shocked, but they nod along to each new item anyways. Toriel pulls the both of you into a quick hug before she departs, tearily wishing you luck.

 

Frisk crouches down and uses the save point before signing, Are you ready?

 

"Actually I have a quick question before we go out there - how does this whole coming back from the dead thing work?"

 

You have to want to come back. You probably don't have enough determination to do it on your own, but it's okay. You'll just kinda borrow mine. I think. Either way, I'll bring you back. 

 

"So all I need to do is want to come back? Sounds easy enough."

 

Yup. 

 

"Alrighty then, I'm gonna head out first," you say, rising to your feet.

 

Frisk grabs your hand and shakes their head. If Sans is angry I need to talk to him. He's kinda… scary when he gets mad, they sign, shivering.

 

“Kiddo, I don't think that's such a good idea. I think I should go first. He might listen to me over you, you know.”

 

But if you go you'll be in danger. 

 

"Only if Sans doesn't bother looking at me. Don't you remember what I said to you earlier? You've done enough, Frisk. Let me be the one to help you this time."

 

.... Okay. I'll give you thirty seconds, and then I'll go through. 

 

"Thanks kid," you say, ruffling their hair. "I'll see you on the other side."

 

You push open the door confidently, sure that you'll be able to defuse the situation.

  
  
\---------------------------------------

 

Frisk will admit it, they're more than a little worried. After all, they have no way of guaranteeing that you're safe. They only make it to twenty before they decide to follow you through.

 

The door they've faced so many times before looms above them. There's a sliver of temptation to simply head back, move in with Toriel and live their life with her. It would be easier that way. But Frisk pushes the door open anyways, following you into the space outside.

 

Or, well, that's what they meant to do. In reality they walk into a grey cavern. In the very center is Flowey, a smug smirk on his face.

 

"He he he.... Did you really think I was gonna pass up this opportunity? You idiot," Flowey hisses.

 

Where are they? 

 

"Probably dealing with their precious boyfriend right now. Do you think he'll kill them? I do. And I'm going to enjoy it," Flowey hisses.

 

Why did you do this? 

 

"You left me here! All of you, you just abandoned me to be on my own! If you get to be selfish then so do I. And the first step to my revenge is already taking place!"

 

What do you mean? Frisk asks, face pale.

 

"Oh, you know what I mean, don't you Frisk? You see, nobody's ever come through that door but you. And the smiley trash bag.... Well, he's gonna think that you reset, isn't he? What do you think he'll do to them? Do you think he'll kill them? Or maybe just bash them until they're almost dead?" Flowey asks, face twisting into a terrifying smile. Or, well, it would be, if Frisk hadn't seen it hundreds of times.

 

Asriel, stop this now! Aren't we friends? 

 

"FRIENDS DON'T LEAVE FRIENDS BEHIND!"

 

Asriel.... 

 

"Stop it! I'm Flowey, the fucking flower. Asriel is dead! I've stalled you for long enough, so I bet they're dead too by now. Enjoy your dead friend!"

 

Flowey disappears underground, and Frisk races ahead to find you. They only hope they'll be fast enough.

  
  
\--------------------------------------

 

You find yourself stepping out into a crisp, snowy forest.

 

Unfortunately, you don't get to enjoy the view for long. A sudden vice tightens around your chest before extending to the rest of your body, rendering you incapable of speech, much less movement.

 

"Ya know, I really thought we'd reached an agreement, Frisk," says the figure in front of you. It's Sans, his magic holding you in the most painful way possible.

 

You struggle to reply, but the magic holds you tighter.

 

"Ah ah ah, that isn't allowed. Little brats shut their fucking mouths when adults are speaking."

 

Sans pauses, not looking up at you.

 

"Ya know, I really thought I'd finally gotten a chance to be happy again. D'you realize what you've taken away from me? I can't look at a knife without remembering the dust coated one you kill us with. I can't spend a single day without wondering to myself if there's a way to die permanently so you can't bring me back. I look at Pap and I see him dying. I've got no hope, no energy, nothing but a million fucking memories burnt into my head!" He shouts, and you watch in forced, horrified silence as he extends his arm. One flick of his wrist, and you fly into a nearby tree. You hit it hard, bark cutting into your skin, the impact causing your head to reel. You catch a glimpse of a white -1 from the corner of your eye as he throws you in the opposite direction, straight into another tree. It's like being slammed into a rock, hard and unyielding. The world swims, distorted by pain and fear as he brings you back to hover front of him.

 

"And you don't give a goddamn fuck. You let me think we've got an agreement, a deal even. I let myself believe that I was gonna get my happy ending. I let myself move forward, and for what? A few days of happiness only to get drug back to this hell again!"

 

Another sweep of his arm and you're levitating thirty feet over the ground. You close your eyes as his arm falls, bashing your body into the ground. The snow breaks your impact somewhat, but you still hear a crack as one or more of your ribs break.

 

"No more. I'm not gonna play your goddamn game. I'm gonna kill you here and then you'll never see my goddamn face ever again," he growls, and you're up in the air again, fourty, fifty, far too many terrifying feet between you and the forest floor, only this time, bones rise out of the ground to meet you as you fall. Your magic has run out, it can't protect you, although it tries for a second in vain before your body is impaled. Sans finally releases your body to rest, cut through and broken, on the bones.

 

"I'm sorry Tori, I couldn't keep my promise..... I'm sorry, [your name]. I don't think I'm gonna be around to find you," he whispers.

 

You already know you're going to die. This isn't something people recover from. You just hope Frisk's magic does what it's supposed to, although it looks like you're going to find out either way. But there's something you have to do first, and you gather the last of your energy.

 

"S... an... s," you manage to say, despite one or maybe both of your lungs being punctured. You hope he heard, because you aren't going to be able to speak again.

 

One second. Two. Three, and the most heart-rending shout you've ever heard echoes through the forest around you. The bones vanish and you fall to the ground. You're pretty sure that should've hurt, but then again, you're also pretty sure that you should be able to feel the cold.

 

Thin boney arms covered by soft fabric grab you, cradling your broken form. You aren't sure what Sans is saying, aren't sure he's even speaking coherently. You feel warm droplets hit your face. He's crying, sobbing over you. You hate knowing he's in pain, knowing you caused it and you're going to make it worse by dying.

 

You don't know where it comes from but the smallest possible wisp of your magic curls in your soul, and you send it to him. You’re fading, you can't even feel his arms, the cold, the tears, none of it.

 

Your last act on earth might be this, and that's okay. You send him your love, your forgiveness. He's not allowed to blame himself. If it's the last thing you do, he's going to know that he's forgiven.

 

You barely register his grief, his pain, his desperate attempts to cling onto the bit of you that you're giving him before you can no longer feel anything at all.

 

It's dark, you aren't sure where you are. Frisk had said you'd need to want to come back, but where the hell are you supposed to go back to? The darkness extends on all sides, as far as you can tell. There's a glimmer of red somewhere but you can't seem to bring it into focus. For that matter, you aren't sure how you're aware of all of this. Being dead was a strange thing.

 

You can feel yourself being drawn towards something. It feels like rest, moving beyond, returning to where you belong. You want that, right? It doesn't feel scary, that's for sure. Why was everyone so afraid of dying again?

 

You jerk back. (How did you do that? You aren't sure.) You can't die! Frisk, Sans, Toriel, Undyne, Papyrus, everyone, they need you! Surely Gaster hadn't chosen you just so that you could die right now. You have to go back home, you'd promised Ferrin. Ferrin needs you to come home.

 

As you begin to fight the pull - part of you wants to go, but a rising feeling is demanding that you go back to them - the red from before becomes clear. It's a string, a bright red slightly glowing string that must be made of Frisk's magic. It leads away from the direction of the pull. Maybe, just maybe, it's your ticket home. Your determination rises and the cord flares brighter in response. You struggle to move towards wherever it leads, but it's hard. The pull isn't just physical - you really want to go towards it. It also feels like it's gotten stronger in the short time you'd been waiting. But you fight anyways. You grit your teeth (You aren't sure if you still have teeth to grit, but it's the thought that counts.) and move. Your feet are slow and sluggish at first, like you're walking through waist deep, running water, but as you keep going you feel yourself breaking free. Soon you're running, sprinting back towards everyone who needs you, everyone you love. You feel yourself hit something that breaks and splinters away, and you fall into the space below.

  
  
\--------------------------------------

"You have been underground for less than forty eight hours. Less than forty eight hours and you have already managed to die. What do you have to say for yourself?"

 

It's still pitch black, but the pull is gone and it's a good deal warmer here. You look around for the source of the voice that's speaking to you.

 

"Pathetic. You were obviously the wrong person for the job," the voice continues, this time from directly behind you.

 

You spin around and find yourself face to face with a cracked skull. The speaker appears to be a tall skeleton dressed in all black, a white.. lab coat? over the rest of their clothing.

 

"Have you gone mute as well?" they demand, glaring at you.

 

"Uh, hi. Don't think we've met before?" you say.

 

Their face somehow becomes angrier and they say, "Does the name Gaster strike you as familiar?"

 

"Hey, in my defence you don't look much like you did before. Nice to meet you again." You aren't entirely sincere, but you aren't entirely sarcastic either.

 

"The pleasure is all mine," he replies, voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

"You were less rude as a weird glitch thing."

 

"I needed you to do something for me then. Now I have you were I need you and you are proving to be a useless pawn! How did you not see that coming? Even the flower knew it was coming!"

 

"Sorry I'm not psychic. Besides, if you knew it was coming why the hell didn't you warn me?"

 

"I find it incredibly difficult to interfere directly with the timelines. Ensuring that you would be present in the underground took most of my strength. I see now that it was a useless endeavor."

 

"You're kind of an ass Gaster."

 

He seems taken aback for a moment. "I do not believe anyone has ever said that to my face. Behind my back, certainly."

 

"Seemed like you needed to hear it. Now, explain this. Why are you so pissed?"

 

He sighs and crosses his arms. "As I said before, the timelines are growing unstable. Every trip back in time unwinds them a bit more. By dying, you have caused more instability."

 

"If you know that much, then how many more times can this happen before the worst?"

 

"By my estimates, the timelines can withstand no more than thirty-six more minor time jumps. A full reset would likely cause the timelines to collapse."

 

"And you didn't tell me this before because?"

 

"I was rather hoping that the vague threat of quite literally ending time and space would be enough of a motivation for you to avoid dying. I see I was wrong."

 

"Alright, alright, I get it, I messed up, can we move forward?"

 

" 'Messed up' does not even begin to cover it," he says coldly. "However, we are running short on time. The child will be bringing you back soon."

 

You glance around. "I don't know how you can tell that, but sure thing. Where are we anyways?"

 

"Unimportant." You are going to hit him sooner or later, geez. "Pay attention. You have thirty-six chances to fix this. Make them count."

 

"Wait, I have a question. Undertale. What the hell is it?"

 

"A vector through which I could evaluate humans. I had a few specifications. Unfortunately, all that my search turned up was you."

 

"Thanks for the endorsement. Alright, so you chose me why?"

 

"I have my reasons. I will be with you. Don't make me regret choosing you any more than I already do," he says.

 

"What the hell are you - ?" you say, breaking off as he fades away to nothingness along with the strangely warm darkness.

  


It's still dark, only you now feel unbearably heavy, and there's a slight pain in your.... chest? You realize that you've finally returned to your body. You gasp and start coughing. You're back in the Ruins, back in front of the small golden star that Frisk was touching so lightly. You shudder, remembering how close you'd come to actually dying. You body feels cold, but you're so glad to be able to feel it again that you don't mind.

 

Flowey stopped me from going to help, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Frisk asks. They look worried, like they're expecting you to start screaming.

 

“I uh… I mean, I guess I am, huh? That was… wow,” you say, swallowing your fear. Frisk needs you to be strong, you remind yourself. Hell, you're pretty sure Sans does too. You can't fall apart here.

 

He thought you were me. He killed you, didn't he? 

 

You pause, but the haunted look on Frisk's face tells you they already know. “Yeah, he did kiddo. But it's fine, I'm back. Glad I didn't let you go instead of me,” you say, rising to your feet. You feel dizzy for an instant before your head clears. It's still a little fuzzy, but a lot better than you should be feeling, considering. You shudder again, remembering how you'd died. You press a hand to your torso, reassured by how whole and unbroken it is under your fingers.

 

“Yeah, I'm fine. Sans will remember what happened, right?” you ask.

 

He remembers what happened when I only jump back to a save point, yeah. Are you sure that you're ready to go? Frisk asks, looking concerned.

 

“Yup, let's head out.” You don't say it, but you're worried about Sans. You'd done your best to convey that you didn't blame him, but knowing him he would anyways. And, if you're entirely honest, moving forward will prevent you from thinking. You really, really don't want to think right now.

 

Frisk nods and grabs your hand. You squeeze their hand, giving them what you hope is a reassuring smile. The two of you exit the Ruins together this time. You just hope Sans will be there when you get outside.

 

He isn’t.

  
The two of you leave the entrance to the Ruins and find nothing but undisturbed snow. Sans hasn’t been here recently, not this time. Frisk reassures you by saying that he is usually lurking further down, close to a bridge. You’re not convinced, but you give them a smile anyways and follow them. The bridge appears, slowly gaining form despite the falling snow blocking your view. But Sans doesn’t. He’s nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dying sucks and Gaster is kinda an ass. (He seems to be acting a little strange, don't you think? Somewhat... inconsistent?)
> 
> I'm sure Sans will be fine..... He only murdered his lover thinking it was Frisk. Not like that's a hugely emotional thing. He'll be okay. Maybe.
> 
> So, if you just so happen to be a dirty sinner..... Well, here's your PwP. (It's my first attempt, I hope it's acceptable...) (Also, please don't take offense to my use of the word dirty sinner, I promise it's affectionate and it's how I think of myself, ha ha.) http://archiveofourown.org/works/5459834/chapters/12621653


	22. Ch. 21 Sans POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't necessarily have to read this, it's basically just chapter 21 but from Sans' POV. It starts from roughly when the Reader wakes up and ends just as the Reader finds Sans in his lab, and, well, it is appropriate levels of sad. (I've added warnings about suicidal thoughts specifically for this chapter, if that gives you any idea of the content.)

Sans isn't exactly a morning person, never has been and at this rate never will be. So when he jolts out of bed at eight in the morning like there's been an explosion outside his house, he knows something’s wrong. The intense sense of deja vu and a sick feeling in his non-existent gut don't exactly comfort him either, so despite the fact that he'd generally sleep in until at least noon, he heaves himself out of bed.

 

There's nothing out of the ordinary in his room - it was at a comfortable level of messy, just enough that he could feel at home but not quite so bad that it begged the question of why a fully grown, functional adult couldn't keep their room cleaner. His self-sustaining trash tornado was swirling in one corner - he's actually pretty proud of that one, even though Papyrus hates it - , the unused and very nearly untouched treadmill Papyrus has insisted Alphys fix up for him shoved against the wall where it belonged. His room is as it always is - so why does it suddenly feel wrong?

 

He shakes the thought off as he exits his room looking for whatever it was that had woken him up. There's certainly a lot of noise coming from the kitchen, but that was nothing abnormal. Ever since Undyne had started ‘training’ Papyrus, he'd taken to cooking whenever he could find a chance. Sans had slept through it before, and he should have done the same today. But he hadn't and he's up, so he strolls into the kitchen.

 

“Hey bro,” he says, yawning as he sits at the table.

 

“Why, Sans! You are up early, lazybones!” Papyrus exclaims from his spot near the stove.

 

“S’bound to happen sometimes,” Sans replies.

 

“Maybe it's just my good habits finally rubbing off on you!”

 

“Sure thing bro. So uh, didja drop somethin’ earlier?” he asks hopefully.

 

“Of course not! The great Papyrus would not ever drop his cooking wares! Well,” Papyrus adds as an afterthought, “Except for that one time last Thursday. But that was more due to the spears than any tomfoolery on my part!”

 

“Huh,” Sans says thoughtfully. Well, that was one possible source eliminated, and the volatile solution of fear and anger hadn't gone away.

 

"Brother, I would like to offer you the indubitable honor of being the very first to try my newest batch of spaghetti!" Papyrus says, jabbing at a pot full of what had probably once been edible ingredients. What it is currently is definitely up to debate, as it’s smoking and charred while also looking rather undercooked. Despite his lack of a nose, Sans can feel his stomach turn over at the thought of trying to eat. Even if the food had been, well, food, he doesn't think he could've stomached it.

 

"Sorry bro, but I don't really have the guts," he says instead, rising from his seat.

 

"Excuse me, my cooking isn't - Oh gods, that was a terrible pun," Papyrus groans.

 

"I've made worse."

 

"That is precisely the problem!"

 

Sans chuckles as he makes his way to the door. No need for Papyrus to see him teleport after all.

 

"Sans?"

 

"Yeah bro?" Sans replies, pausing with his hand on the doorknob.

 

"Does something... seem off today?" Papyrus asks from the doorway into the kitchen. He looks worried, an unusual expression for the tall skeleton.

 

"Not really, nah. Thought my room looked a bit strange, but that doesn't mean anything," Sans replies.

 

"Your room always looks strange, brother! I cannot quite put my finger on it.... But something is wrong," Papyrus says, thoughtful.

 

"I'm sure it's nothin'. And, uh, your spaghetti is on fire bro."

 

"Oh, for goodness sake!" Papyrus exclaims, turning back towards the stove.

 

Sans watches him fondly before exiting the house. A quick check of the town lets him know that nobody's going to notice if he disappears, so he does just that. An instant later, he's standing in his lab.

 

If anything is wrong, this is where he'd find out. And right off the bat, something is definitely wrong, because there's a huge stack of papers on his desk. Not only are they neatly stacked, but he's almost positive that they hadn't been there last night. That, and when they'd caught his attention the roiling mess of tension that had settled into his bones was amped up to a nearly unbearable pitch.

 

He's reaching out to pick up the papers when he notices his hands are shaking. Upon further inspection, so is the rest of him. He grits his teeth and forces his hand to stop shaking just long enough to grab the first few sheets. The handwriting is his own, of course, nobody else can get in here.

  


Reset 1

 

I'm not actually sure how many resets it's been, took me a while to figure out what was going on and come up with this, just hoping it works.

 

If you're reading this, you're me. Yeah, I know, just hear me out. A human has fallen, and they have some kind of insane power....

  
  


There's more, a hell of a lot more, but Sans can't read it, gaze turned inward as the papers fall from numb fingers. Memories that he hadn't had just a few moments ago are flooding his head and he desperately wishes he could dig them out. The kid, how had he forgotten the kid? It happened every time and never failed to surprise him because how under the earth could anyone forget the person who'd changed the underground? No matter the timeline the kid had changed everything he'd ever known, but once the reset hit it was always right back to square one. He takes a shaky breath, then reaches into the mass of papers once more.

 

He can't bring himself to read all of them, but he does skim most of them. Death and dust, laughter and sunlight and everything in between. The kid had tore through the underground and done whatever they wanted - killing, befriending, ignoring, making a game out of their lives. He grinds his teeth reading through the papers, anger rising. Why? Undyne he could understand, she'd tried to kill them in every timeline after all, but Tori? She wouldn't hurt anyone. And Papyrus, what possible excuse could there ever be for hurting Papyrus? He was the nicest monster, the nicest possible person even. There's a feeling that's a strange cross between pride, loss, horror and fear when he reads that Papyrus had told Frisk he believed in them every time, even as he'd died from wounds they'd inflicted.

 

He's most of the way through the stack of papers before he sees one that catches his eye and forces him to slow down. They'd reached an agreement? He's impressed with this alternate self - not only was that impressive for someone as lazy as he is, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to do the same if he were.... in his own shoes. Wow, this was really weird.

 

Hours later he's dug his way to the bottom of the pile, putting the ones he's already read into a messy pile. The final few sheets seem to be all from the same timeline, and he can't help but feel sad knowing that such a long timeline had been erased.

 

He braces himself to read something horrible, because if the kid had reset then surely something awful had happened? The alternative was too painful to consider.

  
  


Reset 1,932

 

Above ground, things are going better this time around. Kid managed to get them to agree to let us live aboveground this time...

  
  


He skims over the next few paragraphs, all containing the typical reports before he reaches something new.

  
  


Had a scare today, human ran into the camp with Whimsun in their arms. Sorta threatened them before Asgore took over, turns out that they saved her. Oops. They seemed nice enough, got pretty beat up on the way here though. They both healed up just fine, the sheriff showed up, turns out that the human knew them. Dropped the human off at their place afterwards.

 

Looks like Asgore’s agreed to have some of us live with this human. I don't think we can trust them, but hey, his call.

 

I might've been wrong on the not able to trust them thing.

 

I thought they'd get angry after Pap and Undyne wrecked their kitchen making spaghetti, but seems like they think it's funny. Humans are weird.

 

They found out about Frisk's nightmares, stayed with the kid all night to help.

 

Everybody's happy here. It's... nice.

 

Almost had to reset today. Group of humans decided that they wanted a fight and weren't going to take no for an answer. Our host actually fought them and won, it was terrifying. They've got some kind of defensive magic, we'll have to test it later.

 

They found out about my nightmares this time, I ended up hurting them. Really hoping that they aren't angry.

 

I guess I'm dating a human now? It's actually been really nice, they've got a great laugh. Gonna take them to the underground tomorrow, I think they'll enjoy it.

  
  


The rest of the page is blank, but Sans doesn't need it. He can remember it all now, or at least enough to be angry. This hadn't been a good timeline - it had been great. They'd all been happily aboveground, moving closer to gaining real rights for monsters, living with you and your sister. Everything had been great, and the kid had still reset? What the hell were they thinking? Nothing in here gave him any reason to believe that they had a real reason to reset. Things had been going so well!

 

He'd almost say that there must be some kind of misunderstanding, that Frisk couldn't have reset, but there's definitely been a reset and if it isn't Frisk then who else could it possibly be?

 

His thoughts are quickly moving from denial and anger to just anger - he'd trusted Frisk, and this was what he got in return? What the fuck was this kid’s problem?

 

He sets the papers down and tries to think through the growing rage, but it's impossible. His mind keeps boomeranging back to his anger. He doesn't even care why anymore, he just wants revenge. Fuck justice, fuck promises, he needs revenge, and damn him if he's going to let the kid kill anyone in the meantime.

 

With that thought firmly in mind, he takes a shortcut to stand in front of the Ruins. Since his target doesn't usually come through this early, he sits, back against a tree, waiting. He doesn't really have a plan, per se, but he does know this kid's about to have a helluva bad time.

 

Sans tries to stay up, he really does, but he hasn't felt this exhausted in... well, in years, if he's honest, so waking up hours later really doesn’t come as any surprise. He supposes he can excuse himself for falling asleep. Pap's always reminding him that he makes for a terrible sentry after all. But a quick glance tells him that nobody's passed by yet. The door always left a huge pile of snow whenever it opened, so he would be able to tell easily if anyone had left.

 

He tries not to think about what had happened to Gaster and wonder if he could do the same as he waits. Not existing, not having anyone mourn his loss because they wouldn't even know he'd been there in the first place, not having to feel this any more all sound like the greatest possible gifts. He just wants this to stop, to be done with. He needs rest. Not sleep, rest. He's so, so tired.

 

But the kid knows that. They'd promised, swore not to give in to Chara, swore to stop killing, swore to him that he wouldn't have to watch his brother die ever again. They'd lied. And he's done with it, he swears, anger rising.

 

His head snaps up as he hears the sound of the Ruin doors opening. If he had flesh he's sure the action would've caused him pain, but as it is he shoots to his feet and takes a shortcut to stand directly in front of them. He doesn't look up, because he doesn't want to see them. Their child's face was so at odds with their actions, he just can't watch them again. If it's Chara, he doesn't want to see that sickening smile on their face, the one that looks painful to maintain. If it's Frisk, he doesn't want to have to see the look of fear he would be putting on their face soon. His magic comes when he calls it, settling over his bones. The barest bit of effort and it wraps around Frisk's soul before moving to the rest of their body, binding it tightly as they try to jerk in surprise.

 

He could feel them struggling against his magical grip, jaw straining in an attempt to speak. What bullshit, they'd gotten plenty of chances to speak, and his patience had finally worn out. This isn't about justice. It's about revenge.

 

"Ah ah ah, that isn't allowed. Little brats shut their fucking mouths when their elders are speaking,” he growls. If the kid's trying to talk instead of sign, at least he can somewhat excuse his behavior. They don't usually speak unless they've already decided on genocide.

 

Hell, he isn't even sure that he needs an excuse, with how much anger is coiled up inside of him. He'd spent so many timelines playing uncle/father/older brother/friend with Frisk and what had he gotten for it? Nothing but more than two thousand resets, nothing but mornings ruined by the ever growing stack of papers in his secret lab, nothing but pain and dust and death. Finally taking this anger out on the one who's caused everyone so much trouble isn't just going to be revenge, and even as he hates himself for it he relishes feeling like he's in power again, like he has some semblance of control.

 

Realizing he's fallen silent, he continues, gaze locked onto a distant tree. He's seen the kid’s pleading expression often enough to know he doesn't want to look at it now. "Ya know, I really thought I'd finally gotten a chance to be happy again. Do you realize what you've taken away from me? I can't look at a knife without remembering the dust coated one you kill me with. I can't wake up in the morning without wondering to myself if there's a way to die permanently so you can't bring me back. I look at Pap and I see him dying. I've got no hope, no energy, nothing but a million fucking memories burnt into my head!" He shouts, bringing his arm up so that Frisk, Chara, whichever one he's facing will know exactly what he's about to do.

 

It's almost sickening how easily his magic allows him to slam the human's body into a nearby tree, but it also sends a twisted jolt of happiness through his body. He grins wider before snapping his arm to the side and bringing their body along with it, sending them crashing into another tree.

 

Almost without thinking about them more words slide out of his mouth, barbed and venomous. If Frisk is somewhere in there, if this is Frisk and he's mistaken, then he wants them to know exactly what they've done. "And you don't give a goddamn fuck. You let me think we've got an agreement, a deal even. I let myself believe that I was gonna get my happy ending. I let myself move forward, and for what? A few days of happiness only to get drug back to this hell again!"

 

He raises his arm, not as high as it will go but very nearly so, taking just a moment so that the kid can get a good look at the drop before bringing them crashing back down into the snow. He leaves them there as he drives home the final nail.

 

"No more. I'm not gonna play your goddamn game. I'm gonna kill you here and then you'll never see my goddamn face ever again," he growls. Frisk hates it when he refers to their trips as a game, and he knows why. They don't like the implication that they don't care for their monster friends, that they think none of them matter, but really, what other conclusion could he draw? Their actions weren't those of someone who cared about the monsters.

 

And as for the last part…. Not existing was sounding more and more appealing the longer he tried not to consider it. Would it be too much to ask for one timeline where he could rest instead of just persevering? He doesn't know but it doesn't matter either way. He has something to finish.

 

He raises his hand for the last time, moving slowly so that Frisk will have plenty of time to notice just how high they're going.

 

"No more. I'm not gonna play your goddamn game. I'm gonna kill you here and then you'll never see my goddamn face ever again," he growls.

 

A pause and then he swings his hand downward while simultaneously summoning a field of bones to meet their body. For just a moment there's what seems to be resistance before he catches a glimpse of red splattered across the snow as the dull, sickening sound of flesh being pierced echoes across the forest. He turns around so that he won't have to see what he's done, already feeling sick, with just a tinge of remorse curdling in his mind. He'd promised.

 

"I'm sorry Tori, I couldn't keep my promise," he whispers, knowing she'll never hear his apology. But... that isn't the only person he owes an apology to, if he really does carry out his plan. "I'm sorry, [your name]. I don't think I'm gonna be around to find you."

 

He supposes he could leave, but it would be pointless. Much like everything else. The world was just going to reset once the kid finished dying anyways, why bother wasting his effort?

 

"S... an... s," comes a voice from behind him, breaking into his thoughts.

 

He frowns. Their voice sounds different, almost like….

Time grinds to a halt as the inconsistencies suddenly become consistent. Trying to talk, not expecting him, that weird sense that his attacks weren't doing as much damage as they should, and… that voice. His body pivots painfully slowly, even though it really takes only a moment and when he finishes turning his gaze comes to rest on a sight he's pretty sure will haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life.

 

The body impaled on the bones isn't Frisk's, it's the human who’d let the monsters live with them. The one who'd saved Whimsun just because it was the right thing to do, who’d done their best to help them, who'd nearly died defending them in the parking lot. His brain kicks into overdrive as he realizes what had happened - what he'd done.

 

“NO!” he screams, releasing his magic as he dives forward to catch their body. Surely, surely there must be some way to fix them, to heal them, he just had to… Oh gods there's so much blood.

 

He shouts their name, but it's to no avail. He's not even sure that they're still alive - humans need blood to live, right? He's pretty sure that they do and it's all over, splattered in the snow and oh gods they're going to die he's killed them they're dead and it's his fault -

 

His thoughts break off as something touches his soul. It's soft and warm and even though it's weak, he knows what it is. It's them, giving him their final message - love and forgiveness. They’re trying to say that they don't blame him, even though they're dying and they know it and he knows it and he wants so badly to try to hold onto this but if he does he might steal their soul and he doesn't want to gain anything from their death so he lets it slip through his grasp as they breathe their last breath, air wheezing out through pierced lungs and then - nothing.

 

He doesn't let go, clutching to their broken body and sobbing. He can't stop the garbled mash of apologies and denial and  pleas for them to come back that are escaping his mouth any more than he can stop the tears that are falling onto their limp form. He doesn't look up to see the world around him dissolving, nor does he notice as everything turns to black around him. It's only as their body starts to lighten in his arms that he notices what's going on. The world around him has already disappeared into nothingness - somewhere, Frisk must've died too. Sans welcomes the feeling of becoming nothing as it takes him and spirits him away.

  
\---------------------------  
  


He comes to sitting in the snow, staring at the door. He knows all of the evidence would be gone, but he spins to look back at the space where he'd just been kneeling anyways, staring at the undisturbed snow.  There's no evidence of his violence, nothing except a memory of your limp form burned into his mind right next to Papyrus crumbling away to dust. He shudders and would've been sick if he'd been capable of it. He can't tear his gaze away from the spot where he'd murdered you until a sound behind him causes him to jump. He can hear the sound of the Ruin door creaking open, and your voice calling his name for just a moment before he teleports away. He can't face you now, even if you have forgotten about what happened - wait, what if you hadn't forgotten? What if you knew what he'd done? Oh gods no....

 

He'd teleported without a real destination in mind, but he isn't surprised to find himself in his lab. He could hide here, and nobody would be able to get in. Well, except for Frisk probably. He realizes even thinking about Frisk is making him sick, probably a delayed reaction to the anger that had taken him over before. And he didn't even have the excuse of a damn evil ghost, he sneers at himself. Gods, he's disgusted with himself. He catches a glimpse of the stack of papers that had made him do this and his arm sweeps out, knocking all of them onto the floor in anger. What fucking use were they, anyways?

 

The anger ebbs away slowly, leaving only a sick feeling of sorrow and regret. He scrunches himself into a ball in the corner of his lab, desperately trying not to think, filled with so much self hatred that he begins to think that the only thing he could possibly do to make this better would be to kill himself. Honestly he'd been willing to do it before but now he's earned it, no matter how horrible death turned out to be. Papyrus would be better off without his lazy, stupid, depressed older brother dragging him down. Of course, he'd probably be too lazy to actually do it, he berates himself. He stays still, mourning, hating himself and hating the world in turn for a very, very long time.

 

                                                                                                 --------------------------------  
  
  
  
  
A few hours and much more self bashing later, his lab door squeaks open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Writing this chapter gave me the sads.
> 
> Fun Fact #2: I originally planned this out on paper and referred to it the entire time as Snas POV. I don't know why.
> 
> Fun Fact #3: Seeing Sans misspelled as Snas makes me giggle, regardless of the situation.
> 
> Someone without an account but going by the name of Dove suggested this, and I loved the idea so much that I wouldn't resist actually doing it. So blame me, not them, because I am the only one at fault here for this angst.


	23. Searching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're out of the Ruins, good first step. Now let's see if you can find Sans.

Out through the doors and back into the snow. You get a sick feeling of deja vu for a moment, the crunch of the snow, the smell of forest and ice all just as they had been before when you'd… Nope. Not going there today. Hopefully never.

 

Frisk helps you look, both of you searching for footprints, disturbed snow, a flash of blue, anything that will give you some indication that Sans is there, that he's been there even. A few fruitless minutes later, you're standing beside his sentry station while Frisk checks behind it. He hadn't shown up at the bridge, hadn't appeared behind you with some terrible joke, hadn't left any indication that he's been there at all. He's just… gone.

 

“Sans!” you shout, receiving only silence as an answer.

 

You weren't really expecting him to answer, considering that you've been shouting his name in intervals for the past ten minutes to no avail, but hey, can't hurt to hope. Especially since all you've really got at this point is hope. Hope and a mind that is dead set on not remembering -

 

\- _Bloodstained snow and pain and bones, bones everywhere and can't scream can't scream can't scream_ -

 

That. You’re working really, really hard to not think about that. It isn't easy, but you're beginning to suspect that nothing about this little adventure of yours is going to be.

 

You don't realize you're lost in your thoughts until a yank on your sweater - thank goodness you thought to bring it, it's really cold out here - jerks you back into reality.

 

“Hey kiddo, sorry about that. Guess I'm not one hundred percent here, huh?”

 

Frisk frowns and signs, Are you alright?

 

“Never been better. Any ideas on where Sans might be? Doesn't look like he's out here.” The kid just wants to help, of course, but damn you if you're going to add to their burden by telling them about the memories that are haunting you.

 

If he isn't here… Maybe Snowdin? 

 

“Do you really think he went back home after -”  blood and tears and for pity's sake pull yourself together “- our little run in?”

 

Frisk probably noticed your momentary lapse even though you're doing your best to act normal, but they don't mention it, instead saying, I don't know. This hasn't… happened before.

 

“Good point. What about Papyrus though? He should be somewhere nearby, right?”

 

Yeah, he should be here sooner or later. He might know where Sans is. 

 

If you wait here, you'll have time to think, and thinking was bad. Action it is then. “Okay, let's go find Papyrus, see if he can give us some answers.”

 

Frisk nods and the two of you head out. No one stops you as you exit the clearing with the guard station nor as you continue through the snow. There are a couple of guard stations along the way, but nobody seems to be there and you don't spare much time thinking about them either. You're working on not thinking, in fact.

 

In another area Frisk grabs your hand and pulls you with them up towards a clearing you can just barely see from the main path. In it is nothing except for a snowman, gazing at you from the center of the space.

 

"Okay, it's a snowman. It's cool and all, but do you think maybe we should focus on finding Sans?" you ask, unsure as to why Frisk has brought you here.

 

"Hello!" the snowman says. You jump back in shock, staring at it. These monsters are really going to give you a heart attack one of these days.

 

"Oh! Hello, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize that you -"

 

"Could speak? Not a problem at all! There are many snowmen who cannot, after all."

 

"Glad to hear you don't mind," you say.

 

"Of course not. Are the two of you on an adventure?"

 

"I guess we are. Why do you ask?"

 

"How kind of you to ask! You see, I have always wanted to travel. The things I could see, the foods I could eat, the people I could befriend! But alas, I am but a snowman. I cannot move."

 

"I'm sorry to hear that," you offer.

 

"No, no, there are many benefits to being a snowman, after all! But travelling, well... that just isn't one of them. Would you mind very much if I asked a small favor of you?"

 

"Not at all, what can I do for you?"

 

"Will you not take a piece of me with you, travellers? Take it with you far, far away so that at least some part of me will be able to fulfill my dream?"

 

Okay, kind of awkward. "Won't that hurt you?"

 

"No, not at all! Please, won't you grant my wish?"

 

"Sure thing," you say, resigning yourself to taking part in the strangeness that was this snowman's dream. "Which piece should I take?"

 

"Oh, thank you, thank you! Here, take some snow from my shoulder," it says.

 

You do, grabbing a handful of snow. You pack it into a small ball before putting it carefully into the side pocket of your backpack.

 

"Now I shall be able to travel with you! Far and wide, meeting strange people and seeing strange places," the snowman says wistfully.

 

"I'll bring it back to you some day. How about I bring some photos too?"

 

"That would be fantastic, thank you."

 

"Sure thing. We've gotta get moving, but it was nice meeting you," you say.

 

"It was a pleasure to meet you! Thank you and good luck," the snowman says.

 

"It's no problem, and good luck to you as well," you call over your shoulder as Frisk leads you back into the previous clearing.

 

"All of that just for a piece of snow?" you ask.

 

I like to help him. 

 

_Or, when you're smart, you use it to heal yourself._

 

I feel bad since he can't travel with us, Frisk continues.

 

"Alright kiddo, but this stuff is gonna melt sooner or later. We haven't run into Papyrus yet, should we be concerned?" you ask, deliberately ignoring Chara's comment.

 

He's up ahead, I think. 

 

"Why do you - ah," you say, cutting yourself off as you notice what Frisk has already heard. Papyrus' voice is coming from up ahead, apparently in conversation with someone else.

 

The two of you round the corner and Papyrus comes into view. He is indeed talking to someone who looks to be some sort of very large bird. It also seems to be made of ice? You're pretty sure you've seen something like it before, not that it matters you suppose.

 

"Are you very sure that you have not seen my brother today?" Papyrus asks.

 

"I told ya, no! Last time I saw your brother was yesterday. Now scram! Us teens rule this forest now, ya hear?"

 

"Yes yes, thank you very much for your help," Papyrus says, sounding distracted.

 

The bird gives an indignant squawk as Papyrus walks away towards you, apparently deep in thought. He nearly runs into you before he sees you, coming to an awkward, stumbling halt.

 

"Oh! My most sincere apologies, I did not see you there!" he says.

 

The way he's looking at you is more than enough to tell you that he doesn't recognize either of you. You'd known he wouldn't, of course. But apparently some part of you had still been hoping, because it feels crushed.

 

"Not a problem," you reply, smiling up at him. You suppose it's another chance to make a good impression on him. Not that you're convinced it's possible to make a bad impression on him, now that you think about it.

 

"Have you perhaps been wandering about for a long time?" Papyrus asks. "You both look rather cold."

 

"Yeah, actually. We're looking for a town called Snowdin? I think we might've passed it by on accident. Do you know where it is?"

 

"Indeed I do! I live there, you see!"

 

"Fantastic! Do you think you could maybe guide us there?"

 

His smile falls just a bit at your request. "Oh, why, yes, I certainly can... But I am looking for my brother at the moment. Have you perhaps seen him? He is rather short, big boned, most likely wearing a blue hoodie and black shorts?"

 

"No, I'm sorry, we haven't seen him," you say. "When was the last time you saw him?"

 

"Yesterday morning. He left our home in a terrible mood and I have not been able to find him since! Knowing him he is likely asleep somewhere ridiculous... But it is strange for him to not have come home for an entire day...."

 

If Papyrus was this worried now, you wonder what he'd say if he knew what you know. Not, of course, that you were going to tell him. That would be downright cruel, since there's nothing he can do about it.

 

"Have you tried checking your house? Maybe he came home in the time you were looking for him?" you suggest.

 

"That is a fantastic point - Oh! I cannot believe I forgot to ask your names! How rude of me!"

 

"Not at all! I'm [your name] and this is Frisk. I'm their..... babysitter." No need to confuse Papyrus the same way you'd confused Toriel earlier.

 

"It is good to meet you, [your name], Frisk! I am the great Papyrus, soon to be a member of the Royal Guard! Will you allow me to escort you to Snowdin?"

 

"We would love that, thank you Papyrus," you say, grinning at his enthusiasm.

 

He nods and spins around to begin guiding you. The three of you pass through several puzzles - "Created and maintained by the great Papyrus!" - and even see a few of the dog-like guards. You're pretty sure they should be stopping you, but they instead just wave at Papyrus and eye you before continuing on their way. You know it's pointless, but you keep an eye out for any sign of Sans as you walk anyways. Based on how distracted Papyrus seems you get the feeling you aren't the only one keeping an eye out.

 

“You are strange looking monsters!” Papyrus exclaims as he leads you through yet another puzzle.

 

“Are we really?”

 

"Certainly! I have not seen you before either. Do you perhaps live in the capital? I hear many strange things about that place."

 

"Uh, yeah, yeah we live in the capital. I'm sure it isn't as strange as you've heard," you reply.

 

"True... I cannot imagine that anyone would take to wearing two left shoes for fashion, after all! And it makes even less sense...."

 

Papyrus, luckily, is more than capable of carrying on an entire conversation by himself. He keeps up a constant stream of conversation, sometimes asking you or Frisk questions but mostly just talking about Snowdin, his job as a guard and how much he thinks the two of you will enjoy his town. It takes you a while to notice that despite the constant speaking Papyrus is still on the lookout for his brother. He's not quite as relaxed as he'd like you to think.

 

You walk along behind him in single file across an immense drawbridge. By some miracle - or, more likely, magic - it's completely sturdy under your feet and doesn't even sway as you make your way across. A bit further you finally enter the town.

 

"Well, here we are!" Papyrus says.

 

"Thank you so much Papyrus," you say.

 

You're such a great friend, Frisk signs.

 

It's the first time they've done so, mainly communicating through gestures and much pointing. As Papyrus looks at them in confusion, you realize it's because nobody's going to understand them. Geez, you're not the smartest sometimes... Although you do have a pretty good excuse for your current distraction.

 

"Sorry, Frisk doesn't really speak much. They said that you're a great friend, Papyrus," you translate. How the tables doth turn, you think, amused.

 

"Oh! Why I... I am flattered that you would call me such! W-we are friends now?" Papyrus stammers, obviously flustered.

 

Frisk nods, grinning up at him.

 

"I've gotta agree with the kiddo. We'd love to be your friends, if that's alright with you," you say, smiling. He's such a damn sweetheart, honestly. Who wouldn't want to be his friend?

 

"O-oh! Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, new friends! I must, uh... Do.. Something!" he says, turning away from the both of you. Apparently, Sans isn't the only one who's blushes glow, you note.

 

He walks a few steps and then turns back to wave at you, shouting, "I will see you later, friends!"

 

You wave at Papyrus and head into the inn, which is mercifully warm. It isn't miserably cold outside, but it's certainly cold enough to make you very, very glad for the fire keeping the lobby warm.

 

"Hello," you say, approaching the desk. "Do you have any available rooms for tonight?"

 

"I'm sorry hun, the inn's full for the night," the woman behind the counter says apologetically.

 

"Crap.... Well, thank you very much anyways," you say.

 

Frisk follows you back outside, where Papyrus is now asking someone else if they've seen Sans. As the other monster shakes their head and walks away, he sighs and turns towards you.

 

"Oh! Hello again! I know I said we would see each other later, but I was expecting it to be a bit, well, later. Was the inn not satisfactory?"

 

"No, not at all, it's just that they're full up for the time being. We can find someplace else though I'm sure," you say.

 

"Well, if you cannot stay there... Would you perhaps like to stay at my house? It is a very nice house!"

 

With no other options and the tiniest, flickering spark of hope that Sans might return to his house, you accept. The sense of deja vu hits again as you walk up to the skeleton brothers home. Lit up and with the chatter of townsfolk in the background, it isn't half as lonely as it had been when you'd last seen it.

 

"Here we are!" Papyrus exclaims, gesturing you both inside.

 

"Thank you again, Papyrus," you say, and Frisk nods.

 

"It is not a problem at all!" he replies. "We do not have a spare room, but you are more than welcome to sleep on the couch tonight."

 

"That sounds very nice, thank you. I'm sorry that we've distracted you from looking for your brother."

 

"Oh, no, it is no trouble! He always shows up sooner or later!" Papyrus says. He's surprisingly good at faking cheer, but you know him pretty well. He's worried, even if he's trying hard not to show it.

 

He goes upstairs quickly, knocking on one of the doors above you. When he doesn't get a response, you can hear the click of the door opening and closing again. Papyrus comes back downstairs with substantially less enthusiasm than he'd gone up them.

 

"I know it is rather rude of me but would you mind if I went out to look for my brother again?"

 

"Not at all, we're the ones intruding after all."

 

"I shall return swiftly, and with my brother in tow!" Papyrus vows, leaving the house.

 

You sigh and sit down on the couch.

 

Is something wrong? Frisk asks.

 

"Nah, just worried about Sans. He's nowhere to be seen...."

 

If he isn't in his room, maybe he's in his secret room? 

 

"I think I remember something about that, but wouldn't Papyrus have checked there already?"

 

Papyrus doesn't know about it. The key to it is usually up in his bedroom, let me go grab it. 

 

You watch as Frisk runs upstairs. A few moments later, they dash back down with a key held in their hand triumphantly.

 

I found it! Come on, let's go. 

 

"Frisk, let me go first okay? I'm sure he won't... do anything... if he's there, but just to be safe?"

 

I don't know... 

 

_He killed you once, who's to say he wouldn't do it again?_

  
"Wow, straight to the point. He did that on accident. I'll be fine. Give me the key Frisk, I want to do this by myself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your verta-bae has disappeared and I am just as sad as you are, let me tell you.


	24. Kinda Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to confront Sans. Hopefully it goes better than last time.
> 
> Beta reader: nozomistarotcards from tumblr. (She's been super helpful, I am so immensely grateful to her!!)

Frisk hands you the key, along with a great number of reminders to be careful. You nod, smile, laugh, reassure them and head outside, carefully closing the door behind you. You're actually kind of proud that you make it all the way to the back of the house before the key slips through your numb fingers.

 

You've been avoiding thinking about Sans the entire time you were searching for him, odd as that sounds. You’d known that you would have to face the facts eventually, but it had been important to hold yourself together in front of everyone else. Without them here though, you're quickly running out of excuses for yourself.

 

You can't run. You can't hide. And you can't keep shoving reality aside to keep yourself together. Not if you want to face him without screaming.

 

You lean up against the side of the house, sliding down until you're able to wrap your arms around your knees. You mentally pull yourself together and begin to sort through the facts.

 

One: You’d lived with Sans for almost two months, and he'd shown absolutely no inclination towards violence.

 

Two: Nothing you'd observed on anyone's part had indicated that they feared him. Aside from Frisk, who seemed to love him anyways.

 

Three: From the game, you knew he was good. Even if Frisk only spared one monster, he'd allow them to live. In the pacifist route he was their good friend. Reality seemed to indicate a similar relationship.

 

Four: But he has no problem killing someone who is completely irredeemable. That seems… not good, maybe. But it was justice.

 

…… Five: He'd killed Frisk. A lot.

 

…. Six: Frisk had killed him. A lot.

 

Seven: He had killed you, thinking you were Frisk.

 

Eight: He had done this out of anger, because he thought Frisk had begun their cycle of murder again.

 

Conclusion? Well….  You are… not okay with what he’d tried to do, but you could understand it. From a logical standpoint, your emotions aside, you think you can say that Sans is a good person in a bad situation. That doesn't excuse his actions - if he had killed Frisk instead of you, you would've given him hell for it - but you can forgive him.

 

Thinking things through, sorting them into boxes, it helps you to calm down. Finally taking the time to unknot some of the tension in your gut is nice too. You're glad Frisk promised to give you as much time as necessary though, since it takes you a while to do so. You take another steadying breath and focus on your irrational fear.

 

He won't kill you again. You know that. But some small part of you is still worried about the possibility. Good person, bad situation, you remind yourself. He's not going to hurt you. He'd never hurt you on purpose. You believe that firmly. That established, you're done standing still. Action was necessary.

 

You heave yourself to your feet and brush yourself off, grimacing as you realize you'd made a really dumb mistake by sitting down in snow. Your pants are soaked through with melted snow, but you can fix that later. Deep breath, shake your head, square your shoulders. You're not over your fear by any means, and you acknowledge that it might not leave you for a long, long time. But you can function, and as far as you're concerned that's what's important. That, and finding Sans so you could shake some sense into him before dragging him to apologize to Papyrus. And Toriel, now that you think about it. Hell, maybe you'll make him apologize to Frisk too.

 

The key is still lying in the snow where you'd dropped it, and you pick up the now frigid piece of metal. You'd somehow expected the door to be hidden, so you're a bit surprised to see it sitting there in plain sight. Of course it would be, but, well, it does ruin the suspense a bit, you think as the lock clicks open. Another deep breath, and you gather your resolve.

 

The door opens easily under your hand and the first thing you register are the papers. The floor is covered in them, white tiles just barely peeking through the sheets. There must be hundreds, hell, maybe even thousands of sheets everywhere, covered in a scrawling handwriting. You stoop and pick some of them up.

  


Reset 342

Still haven't figured out the kid's motivation. Lots of people dead. Pap's fine this time though. Headed to the Judgement Hall soon.

Let the kid go. Maybe they're just scared. Hell if I know. Asgore’s dead, don't know if the kid got him or if he gave up on his own. Same difference. Pap’s ruling the underground. He does a good job, everybody loves him. They're not big fans of the whole judge each human individually thing, but none have fallen yet so things are fine. Reset’ll be soon anyways, guess it doesn't matter.

Days between resets: ||||| ||||| ||||| ||

  


You hiss in a breath. These aren't just random papers - these are Sans’ reports from each timeline. Some, like the one you've just read, are written in looping handwriting that bespoke no rush on the part of the writer. Others were messy and nearly illegible, as though they'd been written in a race against time. You feel sick when you notice dark marks that obviously aren't ink on some of the papers. You don't know what it is and you're positive you don't want to know either. You drop the ones you're holding - not like the floor can get any messier - and bring your attention to the rest of the room.

 

Huddled against the far wall, face hidden, arms wrapped tightly around his knees, is Sans. You freeze when you see the blue magic crackling around him. It's strong, stronger than you've ever seen except when -

 

You shudder and pull your mind into the present. For someone who'd just resolved not to be afraid of Sans, you were awfully afraid of… well, not Sans. His powers, maybe.

 

You wait for some form of acknowledgement, but none comes. You're fairly sure that he's at least aware that you're there, although he has neither looked up nor said anything. You move forward, farther into the room, and he actually flinches away. You hate seeing him like this, know he probably hates you seeing him like this, but you continue forward anyways. A few steps later, you're standing in front of him. He's withdrawn even further into himself, almost like he's the one who died out there in the snow. Like he's scared of you. Hell, he probably is.

 

It suddenly occurs to you that you have no idea what to do now. You'd spent most of your time thinking about not freaking out, and now you're standing in front of him - remarkably calm, go you - but without a plan. Huh. Well. This is awkward.

 

A slight noise that could have been a stifled snort comes from the lump in front of you. Ah shit, you'd said that last bit out loud.

 

“Hey,” you say, unsure of what else to do.

 

When you don't get any response - not that you'd really expected one - you take a seat beside him on the floor. It was probably good that he hadn't immediately run off, right? You were going to take it as a good sign at least.

 

“So, uh…. Fancy meeting you here?” you say, smacking your forehead when even you can hear the falsely cheery note in your tone.

 

“No, don't even respond to that, it was pathetic,” you sigh, staring across the room. Near your feet are a scattering of papers, one of which seems to be covered almost entirely in black. “I’m not very good with… whatever you'd call this situation.”

 

The lump that is Sans makes no move to acknowledge your speech.

 

Unsure of what to say, you decide to pick up the papers that had caught your attention. They were indeed mostly splattered in ink. Above the black splotches was a constantly repeating row of Why?’s in Sans’ scrawling handwriting, growing ever more desperate as the line continued. The last W tears through the paper and you can only assume that the pen had broken under a too-firm grip.

 

Sans doesn't look up and so you move onto another page, this one containing a short list.

  


Reset 539

No mercy. Everyone's dead. Off to the Judgement Hall.

 

Reset 540

Most everyone dead. Undyne left alive. Kid’s gone.

Days between resets: ||||

 

Reset 541

No mercy. Headed to judgement hall.

 

Reset 542

All dead.

 

Reset 543

We lived. Sunset’s nice. Reset must be soon.

Days between resets: |||

 

Reset 544

Only killed Undyne. I had to lie to Pap, told him she'd just gone on vacation. Gods, I hate them.

Days between resets: ||||| ||||| ||

  


You tear your eyes away from the paper, unwilling to read more.

 

“There are better ones,” Sans offers. At least he's looking at you, sort of. More like he's staring at the paper, but he's showing some inclination towards interacting with you.

 

“Sans these papers… all of them are about the resets?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“... Why keep them?”

 

“I dunno. Habit.”

 

“Why are you here? To torture yourself?”

 

“I wanted to be alone. Nobody else ever comes in here.”

 

“..... If you really want, I can leave.”

 

He shrugs, not responding verbally. You don't know what to say, so you pick up a paper that looks relatively full of writing.

  


Reset 1,349

Kid went through, spared everybody again. Haven't been any killing sprees recently, seems like. Maybe it's time I had a talk with them. Of course they could decide to leave things as they are this time.

Days between resets: ||||| ||||| ||||| ||||| ||||| ||||| |||||

 

Reset 1,350

Kid reset after Undyne was killed. Some cult members caught her off guard, her death was supposed to be some kinda message. Humans… are far more disgusting than we'd accounted for. Frisk is on another befriend everyone journey. I think it's time to talk with them.

Probably could've stayed calmer but we've worked it out. If the kid keeps their word, it'll be all good endings from here on out, resets only if someone dies. I don't know if it'll actually work out, but the kid seems willing to try. I swear the kid has some kinda personality disorder - their expression just… switches sometimes. And they said my eyes were creepy. Heh.

Days between resets: ||||| ||||| ||

 

Reset 1,351

Kid kept their word. A couple of monsters died in a confrontation so they reset. They're running through Snowdin now, Greater Dog loves them. Guess I'll be back aboveground sooner or later.

Days between resets: ||

  


The page ends there, and you pick up a new one.

  


Reset 1,473

Don't trust the kid.

  


The words are written like someone had wanted to etch the words into steel, into time itself. Scrawled far underneath, directly below a dark smear of - blood? you can't tell - is a single, sloppily written word - Chara.

  
  


Reset 1,474

Finally, an explanation. I don't want to write everything out here, it would take too long and I've got to save Pap - I won't let him die again damn it.

Chara’s the one killing people now. Don't know why.

  


You flinch in surprise at the name, but continue reading. The rest of the page is blank, so you turn the Sans for an explanation. He's watching you now, although it's a bit more like staring. His gaze is flat and dull, the pinpricks of light dull and barely visible.

 

“You know about Chara?”

 

“You know about Chara.” It's more a statement than a question, his tone bleak.

 

“I, uh, yeah. Long explanation.”

 

“Does that long explanation have to do with how you're here with your memories intact?”

 

“That's a whole ‘nother can of worms. I've got a lot to tell you. And, I mean, we can't hang out in here forever either,” you point out.

 

He shrugs, but doesn't say anything else. The two of you sit in the kind of silence that makes you feel like it's got a sound of its own, pressing in on your brain.

 

“Nice lab you've got here,” you comment, just to break it.

 

Still no response. You aren't accomplishing anything by sitting here in silence, that's for damn sure. You resolve to solve the problem Sans style.

 

“Nothing to say, huh? I could tell you all about my _trip_ ,” you say, and you think you can hear another small snort from him. “Seriously though, didn't trip. I actually planned ahead and brought a rope, isn't that amazing? Anyways, I met Flowey again - what a lovely experience that was. Pretty sure he would've had us _pushing daisies_ , if you catch my drift, but I think my being there confused him. Wandered around the Ruins with Frisk a bit, it was actually pretty fun. Got to Toriel's place eventually. Toriel actually fought me, can you believe it? Didn't think goat mom had it in her.”

 

Alright, that was definitely a snort, followed by briefly shaking shoulders in what you were pretty sure was merth.

 

“See? I can be funny when I try.”

 

“And I can be an asshole when I try,” he finally says.

 

“I'm sure you could be if you wanted to be,” you say, deliberately ignoring the implication.

 

“I killed you,” he says flatly.

 

“Well it sounds terrible when you say it like that,” you respond.

 

He doesn't grace that with a response, falling silent once more.

 

You wait a few moments, hoping he'll speak again before you decide to take another stab at humor. “It wasn't so bad. Death is surprisingly not as scary as expected. Although you do have a bad habit of being too rough on me. You might bruise my oh-so-delicate skin.”

 

You jerk back as he raises his head to glare at you. The tense, crackling magic is back, his left eye blazing with the blue magic from before, the other a blank black void in his skull.

 

“Stop that,” he growls, glaring at you. His eyes remind you of before and it takes everything you've got to meet his gaze square on.

 

“You stop that,” you shoot back.

 

He actually growls this time, eyes narrowed in anger. “Stop trying to play it off like I haven't done anything! I. Killed. You.”

 

“Like I said, dying really wasn't all that bad.”

 

“STOP SAYING THAT!” he shouts, and now you do flinch away from him, unable to stop yourself. His expression changes from anger to horror faster than you would have thought possible, and he turns his face away from you as he shoots to his feet. Your hand darts out and latches onto his before you have a chance to really think it through. He halts halfway up and stares back at you, face showing just how close he is to breaking.

 

“I know that you killed me,” you say softly. “I'm… well hell, I guess I should be honest too. I'm still getting used to that, the whole you killing me thing. But I understand why you did it, you know? I know you're probably beating yourself up about it. Hell, I'm glad I found you here, and not dead somewhere.”

 

“I was considering it,” he croaks, and you can see tears forming in the corners of his eye sockets.

 

You tug him down gently, and he sits back down where he'd been, rubbing a sleeve across his face. His magic fades slowly, and you feel something inside of you relax.

 

“I kinda figured that, yeah. I'm sorry,” you offer.

 

“Did you just apologize for dying?” he asks, incredulous.

 

“Uh. I think I did. But I kinda meant for not being able to help you too.”

 

“Please don't apologize for me fucking up. Or for me being a fuck up.”

 

“Beating yourself up over the past - or, well, not so past since it didn't technically happen - isn't gonna fix anything, you know. I've already forgiven you for it.”

 

“That's half the problem. The other half being that I'm a fucking piece of shit.

 

“Sans- “

 

“I set out to kill an eleven year old kid, and ended up killing the best human I've ever met by accident. Ya got a better word for me?”

 

“A good guy in a shitty ass situation. A shituation, if you will.”

 

That wrings a half smile and a snort from him, and you smile at him tentatively. You've kept ahold of his hand and he hasn't pulled it away, so you figure you've achieved something.

 

“A shituation, nice. Yeah, I guess that sums it up pretty well,” he sighs. “Dunno about the whole me being a good person thing though.”

 

“You are,” you say, voice firm. “Shit just sucks. Hell, I get it. I'm having difficulty with the reset and it's just my first time. You, you've done this, well, a lot more than I have. It'd make a lot of people really sad if you weren't around though. Papyrus is out looking for you, he's worried sick. And Toriel actually asked me to find you and check on you. Frisk's worried too, had to convince the kid not to follow me over here.”

 

He doesn't reply, and you don't try to make him. The silence is a bit awkward but that's to be expected you suppose.

 

“I wish you weren't here,” he eventually whispers.

 

“I can leave,” you offer, not wanting to force your company on him.

 

“I - No, no, that's not….” he sighs deeply again. “I meant I wish you weren't… involved. Down here. Shit sucks like you wouldn't believe.”

 

“I’m glad I'm here. I don't regret it.”

 

“You will. You're going to get hurt. Hell, you already have been, and I'm the one you shouldn't have to worry about.”

 

“I knew what I was getting into.” Well, sort of, but stretching the truth should be alright.

 

The two of you fall silent again, but it's less strained than before.

 

“I have good news,” you offer.

 

“I doubt it.”

 

“Alright captain negativity, how's this? I have information from a certain, uh, well… reliable source, that this’s the last reset.”

 

“Kid promised me that last time too.”

 

“Oh! That too. It wasn't Frisk who reset.”

 

He actually looks at you at that, suspicion clear on his features. “Did Frisk tell you that?”

 

“Yes, and no. I also heard it from my reliable source. Oh wait and there's also - man, this is getting tangled. Give me a sec here,” you say, pausing to sort through your thoughts.

 

“Okay. I'm gonna start from the top. Have you ever heard the name W.D. Gaster?”

 

Whatever Sans had been expecting, it wasn't that. He shoots to his feet, magic flaring again.

 

“How do you know that name?” he asks through gritted teeth, obviously restraining himself. It takes a lot, but you don't flinch this time.

 

“Okay… not the reaction I was expecting. He's the one who gave me my memories back. I think he's manipulating… a lot of factors.”

 

“He's dead. He's been dead for a long time, and he sure as hell shouldn't be able to come back to do that.”

 

“That's great and all, but I'm telling you that's what happened. He appeared before, too.”

 

Sans doesn't respond for several long minutes, instead biting at his finger as he stares off into space. “And he didn't hurt you?”

 

“....No, he didn't hurt me. He threatened to if I hurt you or Papyrus though.”

 

Sans makes an irritated noise and says, “Nothing else? No clues as to why he's doing this?”

 

“Remember how I said I had a reliable source? That'd be him. According to what he said, the resets and time jumps are making time unstable…. somehow. Anyways, another reset would apparently cause time itself to tear apart. Or something to that general effect, he really didn’t explain very much…. So I guess it's good and bad? On the one hand, no more resets. On the other, not much more of anything else either if we mess up?” you finish lamely. Sans is staring at you, mouth open, gaze incredulous.

 

“Uh, Sans?” you ask as he continues staring.

 

He closes his mouth and rubs a hand over his face. “That's…. A lot to take in. Holy hells. Give me a sec here.”

 

He stays standing for a moment longer before sitting down beside you. The sound of his teeth clinking against his finger accompanies his muttering.

 

“So you're telling me Gaster’s behind you being here?” he asks eventually.

 

“Yes.”

 

“And he sent you here to do what, exactly?”

 

“Stop the resets, strange as it sounds. I think he might've been behind pretty much every coincidence that lead you guys to be living in my house.”

 

He glances at you, frowning. “What d’you mean?”

 

“Way, way back, when I first found Whimsun, the only reason I was out there was because something had messed with the saved files for my book. I thought it was just some kind of weird computer glitch. I usually run earlier than that. If it hadn't been for him I wouldn't have been out at the right time to catch those guys. Hell, I wouldn't have been irritated enough to run in the woods instead of sticking to the perimeter of the house.”

 

“But why?” Sans mutters, more to himself than to you.

 

“Timelines? Imminent death of literally everything?”

 

He shakes his head. “No, I meant why you?”

 

“No idea. I bet he could explain it though.”

 

“You can talk to him whenever?” he asks, gaze locking onto yours. He looks almost afraid.

 

“Good question, I haven't tried yet. It seemed like he could use my laptop whenever he wanted though.”

 

“Your laptop?” he asks, relaxing.

 

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, he used my laptop to communicate. And there's something else too.”

 

He looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

 

“There's… this game,” you say. “I know, it sounds weird, but just hear me out. It's called Undertale…..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actually, I want to say something here I feel can't be stated enough: Thank you all for being so supportive! Having so many people read my writing, so many people leave kudos and the huge number of you that have left kind, supportive messages in the comments, it's amazing. I don't know what I've done to deserve readers like you guys, but thank you!
> 
> Just to make it clear, since I've gotten a couple of questions on it: Yes, Gaster is supposed to be a complete enigma at this point. He's got a few secrets. Think back to the game - Gaster's pretty well hidden, and what you do find out leaves you with more questions than answers. In this story, Gaster had some kind of part in the creation of Undertale, so he's the one who did that. He wants to be a mystery. Why he wants that is, well, a mystery! We're only about halfway done with the story - you can't be expecting all of the puzzles to be solved just yet.


	25. No More Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things have been a bit heavy, but Reader's actually not half bad at cheering people up as it turns out. 
> 
> Beta Reader: nozomistarotcards, who can be found by that url on tumblr! (She's got a lovely blog, you should go check it on out!)

You explain the game, not going into detail but skimming over all of the important parts. You inform him that the game reflects the reality of the underground, that all of the monsters were characters and you could befriend them, giving him some information on how the game works, briefly touching on all of the alternate endings, the fact that you hadn't remembered any of this prior to Gaster appearing in your room. Sans’ face is surprisingly readable the entire time, alternately furious, awed, saddened and something that comes close to amusement.

 

“And uh, I guess that's it?” you finish lamely, waiting for his reaction.

 

"You know, I thought I'd lost the ability to be surprised. Guess I was wrong," he says.

 

"You're a hell of a lot calmer than I was expecting?"

 

"I've had a lot of impossible shit thrown at me," Sans sighs, running a hand over the back of his skull. "D'you have your laptop with you? I'd like to see this... game. Seems like we need to sit down and have a chat with him too."

 

"My buddy the irritating computer virus? Probably. The computer's in your house with Frisk, who, by the way, is worried sick."

 

"I'll pop in, grab the computer and bail then."

 

"Ohh no you don't. You need to actually talk to Frisk and apologize for scaring them half to death."

 

He rolls his eye lights and opens his mouth, probably to rebuke you.

 

"Non-negotiable," you say, shaking your head.

 

"Anything else I can do for ya while I'm at it?" he asks, tone mildly sarcastic.

 

"Yup. You're gonna go find your brother for me - it's insanely cold so I'm going to bundle up with Frisk and some hot chocolate - and apologize to him too. He's probably going to make you come back here for a nice, home cooked meal, because he's a giant sweetheart. And after that you're gonna go knock on that mystery door in the woods and apologize to Toriel, who has also been worried sick about you."

 

"Anybody else I should be apologizing to?" he asks, amused.

 

"I'd say you should apologize to me, but you'd apologize for the wrong thing. You scared us all half to death, you bone head," you say, pulling an arm around his shoulder to pull him close.

 

"Sorry 'bout that," he murmurs, leaning into your half hug.

 

"It's okay. Just... I know it's difficult. To keep going, I mean. Sometimes it probably seems impossible. But there are so many people here who love you. We'd miss you terribly if you did something... permanent."

 

".... I don't think I could do it, ya know. It would tear Pap apart if I did. Out of everything I've managed to fuck up, he's the one I just can't let down. I didn't think I'd be lettin’ you down though.”

 

“You haven't,” you answer, voice firm. “I'm amazed by your willpower.”

 

You roll your eyes when he scoffs loudly.

 

“I mean it! Hell, you get up, you do things, you act as best you can so you don't worry everybody. And that's after gods know how many resets. Actually, you do probably know, which is also astounding - you've managed to keep track of everything, and you've kept doing it! You're amazing, Sans. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. You're… hell, I don't have a word for it but I'm in awe at your ability to keep going. You're doing great, Sans. You spend a hell of a lot of time on self-loathing and bashing yourself, and you don't deserve a bit of it! We love you - all of us think you're great. You're not letting anybody down by being you. We love you for you. It's okay to not be strong all the time you know. It's not gonna make us stop loving you.”

 

You try to bundle everything you can into your words, but even you have to admit that you aren't very good at pep talks.

 

"Things would be easier for all of you if I didn't exist," Sans insists.

 

"If you say that one more time I'm going to have to - I don't know, tickle you or something. People cause trouble for other people, alright? It's just what we do. We expect you to cause us trouble, hell, we wouldn't really be your friend if you didn't cause us trouble on occasion."

 

"Trouble doesn't really cover murder."

 

"Stop that," you say sharply. "You aren't going to accomplish anything by blaming yourself for something that's already done and forgiven. Sure, I died, whatever. I'm back now, and that's what counts. You and I and Frisk and hell, maybe even Gaster and Chara are going to set things straight. I’ve got a plan, alright?”

 

“A plan?”

 

“Hell yeah, here it is: first, we’re gonna set out and befriend everybody. And I do mean everybody, I'm gonna have a million best friends, alright? So after that, I'm gonna march on up there to Asgore with all of my best friends and we're going to break the goddamn barrier for the last time with the sheer power of friendship! Or something, hell if I know, but it's gonna break like there's no tomorrow. Then, we're gonna get out of here and build a giant monster city.”

 

“A monster city, huh?” he asks, amused.

 

“Yup. At least five skyscrapers, maybe build a concert hall. Hell, let's throw in a giant bridge for good measure. Get Papyrus a nice car, set the speed limit to like 3 miles an hour so he doesn't hurt himself.”

 

“We could build Tori that school she's always wanted,” he suggests.

 

“Now you're getting it! Yeah, Tori can have her school, and I bet Asgore would love a real garden to take care of.”

 

“Grillby could have a real restaurant aboveground instead of working out of a tent.”

 

“Muffet could have her spider pastry shop.”

 

“I could set up my hot dog shack somewhere,” he suggests, chuckling.

 

You laugh. “Yeah, your ‘hot dogs’. Someone could run a monster fashion show.”

 

“Mettaton would trip over himself to be able to be a real star, we could get him a reality TV show. Nothin’ he loves more than the sound of his own voice.”

 

“Oh man, he would, wouldn't he? Probably make sure everyone knows just how sexy calculators can be. We should make him our minister of foreign affairs instead, can you imagine him in a meeting with the government? ‘So, I understand what you're saying, but I present you with: me, on top of this table, posing sexily.’ ‘Sir, we were discussing the legalization of magic. Please remove yourself from the tabletop.’ ‘But sir. Just look at these legs!’”

 

His shoulders are shaking in suppressed laughter.

 

“The officials all pissed afterwards, he’s all like, ‘Honestly! The outrage!’ His assistant says, ‘But sir, those are some damn fine legs.’ ‘George you're fucking fired.’”

 

Sans starts laughing out loud, and you join in. Something between the two of you melts away as you laugh together.

 

“And he would do it too!” he says around laughter.

 

“Oh, totally. That's why he's officially our minister of foreign affairs, I can't take anybody else for it. And Papyrus… hmm. How about….. mayor?”

 

“Mayor Papyrus, he would love that,” Sans agrees.

 

“He would make an amazing mayor. Who could be angry when the person you're talking to is literally the nicest, most accepting and just generally the best person they've ever met? You don't, that's how. Papyrus could befriend anybody, I'm sure of it.”

 

“He's the best,” Sans agrees.

 

Both of you two fall silent for a bit, you mentally fleshing out the idea of a monster city. Sure, maybe five skyscrapers was absurd, but a monster town… Well, it wasn't a bad idea.

 

“Thanks,” Sans says, interrupting your thoughts.

 

“For coming up with the most impractical city on the face of the planet?”

 

“For cheering me up. You're right, moping isn't gonna get me anywhere. And all things considered, it could be worse. Kid hasn't been acting strangely, have they?”

 

“No, Frisk's just Frisk. Chara doesn't seem to be much of a problem, honestly. They tried to possess me when we were with Toriel, but it wasn't even very hard to push them out of my head. Since then they're just hanging out I guess. Not sure if they're here now.”

 

_You two are sickening. And no, not until you called me._

 

“Called you?”

 

 _I am the demon that comes when you call their name_ , Chara says.

 

"Huh?" Sans asks at the same time.

 

“One sec, we have a guest. Sure thing kiddo. Real terrifying. Now, scram before I do something that's really gonna gross you out.”

 

_He's so gross, he probably hasn't washed that shirt in like, five years. What's so great about him anyways?_

 

“Uh, [your name]?” Sans asks.

 

"What?"

 

"I'm guessing you're talking to Chara?"

 

_Duh._

 

"Yeah, I am. They started talking, thought I should say something."

 

"I don't hear anybody but you talking."

 

_He can't hear me. None of the monsters can._

 

“Oh, sorry. Chara says hi- “

 

_I do not!_

 

“ -and just asked me what it is that I see in you.”

 

“Right. And you're talking to that hell spawn because?”

 

“Well, they do seem genuinely curious- “

 

_I am not!_

 

“So I thought I'd tell them. Let's see… Well, the first thing would be that he's a complete sweetheart whenever he tries. Our first date was amazing- “

 

_Shut up shut up shut up!_

 

“And he's adorable when he talks about his brother, it's great. The stupid puns grew on me at some point too, for that matter. He's intriguing - I've never known anyone else who lies quite so often. It might be annoying, but he does it to protect others and I love that. He's smarter than you'd ever guess."

 

A mental scream of rage echoes through your mind as Chara leaves. Or maybe they've just faded, who knows. At any rate, you can't feel them there anymore.

 

"Oh, he's actually really good at kissing too, that's nice. And,” you say, grinning down at Sans, whose cheeks are alright lightly dusted with blue. You kiss his cheek and the blush gets darker, making you laugh. “Well, that speaks for itself.”

 

He grumbles something about “in front of a kid”, and you laugh again.

 

“They started screaming in frustration and left about halfway through, actually,” you say, grinning.

 

“Geez, they really hate me, huh?”

 

“Yup. Them and Flowey both call you the smiley trashbag. Not sure which one of them started it, but it probably has something to do with the fact that you're a hell of a lot stronger than you look.”

 

“S’not like I’d be giving ‘em a bad time if they hadn't done something to deserve it. Although I don't think I've ever fought that flower.”

 

“Really? But doesn't he, you know, steal everyone's souls and try to become a god?”

 

“Yup. Never seems to work out for him though, since if I see him then we always wake up with Frisk passed out in front of us and neither head nor petals of a flower hanging around.”

 

“So you don't know anything aside from the fact that Flowey's a talking flower that wants to become god?”

 

“Is there something else to know?”

 

“.... Yeah. But let's not get into that now. We need to have a group conference, the two of us, Frisk, Chara and Gaster. But first, would you like some help picking up these papers?"

 

"Normally I'd just leave 'em."

 

You roll your eyes and start gathering the papers together. A moment later, Sans joins you. They're everywhere, almost like someone had deliberately thrown them. Well, you suppose he probably had, even if you aren't going to ask.

 

"So, even after all of that mess you still like me, huh?" he asks.

 

"Thought I'd made it pretty obvious, but yeah I do."

 

"So would that make me your bonefriend then?"

 

You smack him with the papers, laughing.

 

"Awh c'mon, there's no need to _report_ me," he says with a wink.

 

"Shut up," you groan.

 

Eventually the papers are all gathered together into a neat pile and put back up onto the counter where they belonged. Sans had fit in a few more terrible puns, and you were more than ready for that hot chocolate. The house was warmer than it was outside, but still cold. Probably something to do with the fact that it's inhabitants don't have skin, you think, shivering.

 

"Let me guess," you say as Sans goes to open his mouth, "Something about how I'm chilled to the bone?"

 

"I was going to suggest we get back to the kid and get you a blanket but hey, that works too," he says, grinning wider.

 

You roll your eyes and head towards the door. A hand on yours stops you, and you look back at Sans.

 

"Something wrong?"

 

"I know a shortcut," he says, and a moment later you're standing in his living room. Frisk looks up from the couch and stares at the two of you for a moment, startled

 

"Hey kid," Sans says, smiling down at them.

 

I didn't break our promise , they sign.

 

"I know, Frisk. Don't worry 'bout it, I'm not mad buddy," he says, putting a hand on their shoulder.

 

"I explained the whole mess with Flowey," you toss over your shoulder as you grab your laptop.

 

"That reminds me. What did you mean, there's more to Flowey than I know?" Sans asks.

 

You glance at Frisk, who is staring at you fearfully.

 

"Nothing important, maybe. Sans, do you mind if I talk to Frisk for a sec?"

 

He shrugs and says, "Sure thing, I'm gonna go find Pap. I'll make sure he doesn't come back for a few hours so we can talk."

 

After he's disappeared, you turn to Frisk. "Kiddo, what's going on? Sans doesn't know about... you know who?"

 

I don't know what you're talking about , Frisk signs, not meeting your gaze.

 

"You remember I mentioned that game, right? I know about Flowey being Asriel, Alphys' experiments, all of that."

 

Frisk's eyes widen even further and they sign,  You know? 

 

"Yeah, that was in the game. So why haven't you said anything?"

 

..... He asked me not to. 

 

"Alright, that's great and all but at this point I think keeping secrets is causing trouble. Don't you trust Sans?"

 

I do but.... I just wanted to keep my promise to Asriel , they say, tears welling up on their eyes.

 

"The thing about promises is sometimes people force you to make promises you can't keep. Sometimes it's because the promise is too difficult to keep. Other times it's because the promise isn't one that you should keep. Do you think maybe now is one of those times?"

 

Frisk hesitates, chewing on their lip.  I don't... I don't know.... 

 

"We can help him if we all work together, you know?"

 

Frisk shakes their head.  I tried, okay? I tried everything, and I couldn't help him. 

 

"Did you ever try getting help?"

 

A lengthy pause, and then,  No. 

 

"Well, can't hurt to try, right? Let me help you kiddo. Let us help you. You don't have to do this all by yourself anymore," you say gently.

 

_Oh yeah, you'll be tons of help I'm sure! Not. You don't even have a plan!_

 

You shrug. "Never said I did. But considering we're trying to fix a monster, do you think maybe three humans might not be the best ones to ask?"

 

You have a point... 

 

"I think he needs to know. But I want your permission before I tell him. What do you say Frisk?"

 

You wait as Frisk stays silent, thinking. You don't know that either you or Sans can actually be of any assistance to Flowey/Asriel but the lies need to stop. It's beyond time for all of these secrets to be out in the open.

 

Alright. I'll do it , Frisk declares.

 

"What are ya gonna do?" Sans asks as he appears in the room.

  
"We're going to have our group meeting, starting with the information on Flowey. After that we'll see if my buddy here will talk to us, and I'll show you Undertale if that's what you really want," you say. Hopefully this finally sheds some light on the questions that have been piling up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, finally gonna move out of sad-ville and get some answers... well, in theory.
> 
> Yes, I know, in-game only Flowey ever uses smiley trashbag, but I adore the idea of the kids picking these things up from each other, so here we are. And of course Chara's going to hate Sans, the whole 'get dunked on' bit probably still makes them grind their teeth. So now they're stuck haunting the minds of two people who like Sans, and they're angry and I, personally, find it hilarious. Kid deserves some pun-ishment. (Am I funny now? No? Darn.) As far as the story is concerned, since we have no canon ages, Chara is roughly 13-14. Not as much of a child as Frisk, but still young enough to be a little brat. Honestly, the whole "I am the demon that comes when you call their name" shtick is hilarious to me. That's not a genuine threat, that's a dramatic statement from someone who thinks that they're being super scary. Chara's a kid who's every bit as over-dramatic as Asriel/Flowey.
> 
> My first mention of Mettaton, and it's this. Wow. Just... wow.
> 
> If anyone is lacking in Undertale related music to listen to, I've been on youtube blasting SharaX's Tokyovania on repeat for the last few hours as I wrote this, man I love that song. They've got a lot of other good ones too.
> 
> Anyways, you guys have a good night, day, whichever it is, and we'll find out if we can wring those answers out of the void man in a few days.


	26. Group Meeting

The three - no, four - wait, wrong again, five - the five of you convene in Sans’ room, hoping to avoid anyone overhearing your conversation that way. Since the seating options are rather limited, those of you with physical bodies end up seated on the floor.

 

“Alright kiddo, so what's this about that creepy flower?” Sans asks as everyone settles in.

 

Well  , Frisk signs, hesitating as they attempt to figure out where to begin.  You know the story about the king and queen's son, right? 

 

“You mean Asgore and Tori’s kid? Yeah, everybody knows that one.”

 

Yeah, that's the one. When Asriel died, some of his ashes were spread onto a grave, the same grave where they planted the seeds Asriel brought back with him. 

 

“Okay,” Sans says, obviously not getting where this is going.

 

Do you know about the experiments Alphys did? 

 

“Nah, I left the lab before she became the Royal Scientist.”

 

So you don't know anything about her determination experiments? 

 

Sans visibly stiffens. “The determination experiments shoulda stopped once Gaster died. How the hell did Alphys manage to continue ‘em?”

 

Blueprints I think? 

 

Sans mumbles a curse under his breath, gaze distant. “Knew I shoulda gone back…”

 

“Keep going, Frisk,” you say.

 

She was trying to continue the work that the previous Royal Scientist started, making an artificial way to break the barrier. She did….. a lot of things, but the important one was she wanted to see what would happen if she gave determination to something that didn't have a soul. 

 

Frisk pauses there, waiting for some kind of response. Sans looks apprehensive, like he's guessed where this is going, but he doesn't interrupt and neither do you.

 

She decided to inject determination into something small that could be brought into the lab. The flowers in the king's garden were perfect for what she had in mind. Somehow instead of bringing a flower to life- 

 

"She brought Asriel back," Sans breathes, eye sockets wide.

 

Only he had no soul, so he couldn't feel any kind of emotion. Bad, good, nothing. And since he'd been injected with a lot of determination, he gained the power to use the old spells that were set up here. 

 

"So he can reset and save?" Sans asks, looking sick.

 

Only if I'm not here. 

 

"Because you have more determination," he mutters to himself. “That's… awful.”

 

Sans shoots to his feet and begins pacing, chewing on his finger once more. Frisk moves their hands to resume signing, but stops as you shake your head. He probably needs time to think.

 

“So Asriel became Flowey, but without a soul lacks emotion,” Sans says. Frisk nods and he continues. “And he's got determination, so he can reset. We went down there, set him off, and he reset.”

 

“Basically,” you respond.

 

“And all a this was in some kind of game that you played?” he asks, eye lights coming to rest on you.

 

“Yeah, it was.”

 

“Is the game accurate? About everything?”

 

“Sorta? You guys were the characters, you're pretty close to your in-game personalities. The underground is relatively accurate too.”

 

If it was a game though, who did you play as? 

 

You'd actually skipped over that bit on purpose, but it seemed like it was unavoidable now. “Uh, well, you. Sort of?”

 

“What d’you mean, sort of?”

 

“Well, I mean, this was all just theory based, because the game left a lot open to interpretation, so just keep that in mind. But if I remember correctly the most popular theory was that the real playable character was Chara?”

 

What? 

 

_Nobody can control me!_

 

“Like I said that was a theory. But it was pretty well supported in-game…. Basically it starts out like a normal RPG where you can name your character, but at the end of the game it's revealed that ‘your character’- “ you mimic air quotes around the word “ -already has a name, Frisk. So as Chara, the player controlled Frisk and made them do whatever they wanted them to. Pacifist, neutral, or…”

 

“A brutal genocide of the entire underground,” Sans finishes when you prove unwilling to. Frisk flinches, eyes downcast.

 

“Yeah, that.”

 

“You mentioned neutral before, what the hell does that mean?”

 

“A general term for any ending that wasn't true pacifist or no mercy.”

 

“You're telling me that as long as you didn't kill one single monster out of hundreds, it was considered neutral?” Sans’ voice is dangerously quiet and controlled.

 

You swallow hard. “I didn't name it, but yeah.”

 

Sans’ eyes close and he pinches the bones where the bridge of his nose would be. “Someone has really shitty taste in names,” he growls.

 

“I have to agree.”

 

_So wait, if I'm in the game, was I like the super cool main character?_

 

“Sorry Chara, you're really not much of a character. Well, sort of. At the end of a no mercy route, after the player kills- “ you glance over at Sans, who's cracked open an eye and is watching you, “ -Sans, then they walk over to Asgore’s throne room. Once they get there, Chara you take over and kill Asgore and Flowey yourself. The player then moves forward to the barrier, and you ask if they want to kill all life on the planet - humans, monsters, whatever else stands in your way - and if they agree, you say they're a great partner and end the world. If they don't, you tell them that you're the one in control and end the world anyways. And you bargain for their soul at the end of no mercy if they want to reset. So you're sort of a character?”

 

_Well, at least I get to kill things._

 

Chara’s not that bad!  Frisk signs, looking sad.

 

“I always thought so too,” you agree.

 

“You seem to know an awful lot about the mass genocide ending,” Sans says. He's trying for a casual tone but his tone is anything but, riddled with anger and tension.

 

“I couldn't ever do one myself, if that's what you're asking. I was one of the sappy emotional players - I only did two runs, a pacifist neutral and a true pacifist. You have to become friends with Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys before you can get the true ending. Pacifist neutral is when you mess up a true pacifist by not befriending someone so the game makes you go back and fix your mistake. I might've played it again, but the game made it pretty clear that if I did that, I'd be forcing you and Frisk to relive the same day over and over again just so I could be selfish and spend time with everyone again. I mean I knew it was a videogame but I was ridiculously attached to you guys as characters. So instead I just learned what I wanted to know through the play footage of others.”

 

“So you didn't actually kill my brother, you just watched someone else do it,” he says flatly.

 

“No, I did not watch anyone kill Papyrus! No one killed your brother, they just played a game. Sans, you know that isn't fair. It's a video game, not reality, and blaming me for watching someone else play a video game is absurd.”

 

“I know, alright?” he says, sighing. “It's just… this is all a bit much, you know?

 

“I can't blame you for being bothered by it all. If it makes you feel any better, a lot of people bit- uh, complained, about your boss fight because it was so hard. Like, some people couldn't beat you despite trying for a few days straight.”

Sans snorts. “Seriously? I've got 1 hp, how hard could it be?”

 

“If I remember right in the game you said something along the lines of ‘people should just use their strongest attack first’. So there's the karmic retribution - which, by the way, is awesome - ignoring invincibility frames, the fact that nobody else's fight is even half as difficult as yours, and the fact that you dodge attacks unlike everybody else. So yeah, people had a heck of a time with your fight.”

 

“Huh. Guess that game is pretty accurate. The blasters show up too?”

 

“Oh yeah, definitely. I could probably pull up a video, it's gotta be somewhere,” you offer, opening up your laptop.

 

“I'm more interested in seeing the game itself,” he responds, watching your screen.

 

You log in and pull up the file from before. “This’s the stuff Gaster used to remind me of the previous timeline. Speaking of, Gaster, you there?”

 

Your question is met with complete silence, and you shrug. “Alrighty, guess not. So there's all of that, but none of it's important I guess. As for the game…”

 

You pull up the game and push the laptop towards Sans. He sits down beside you, watching as the game goes through its introductory sequence. Frisk comes up behind the two of you and sits on your lap. You chuckle and muss their hair, earning your hand a half-hearted slap.

 

The intro finishes and much to everyone's surprise Flowey pops up on screen and begins to speak.

 

“Hi,” he says, a lone white flower on a field of black.

 

“Uh?” Sans says, looking at you for an explanation.

 

“In true pacifist you have to save Flowey, now shush and watch,” you say, nodding towards the screen.

 

“Seems as if everyone is perfectly happy.

 

Monsters have returned to the surface.

 

Peace and prosperity will rule throughout the land….”

 

Sans keeps watching the screen. reading, and you do as well despite knowing the speech already. From the tension in Frisk's body, you're pretty sure they're reading the messages too.

 

“.... Let Frisk be happy.

 

Let Frisk live their life.

 

...

 

But.

 

If I can't change your mind, if you DO end up resetting everything…

 

…

 

You have to erase my memories, too.

 

…

 

I'm sorry.

 

You've probably heard this a hundred times already, haven't you…?

 

…

 

Well, that's all.

 

See you later…

 

[your name].”

 

“The game's like that,” you say softly, looking at the now black screen. “It makes you love the characters, and then gives you a choice.”

 

**A rather brilliant choice on Toby’s part, that.**

 

“Why hello Gaster, how nice of you to join us,” you say, watching as Sans’ eye lights up again.

 

**I was here before.**

 

"Fantastic, thank you for making me look insane."

 

**You're very welcome.**

 

You grind your teeth, irritated. Sans' mouth twitches upwards and you're pretty sure he's trying not to laugh.

 

_I like him._

 

"You would, wouldn't you," you sigh. "Alright then, since we're following your schedule, what's next Gaster?"

 

"Actually, I'd much rather know, doctor G, what the hell is your plan?" Sans asks.

 

**Why, saving the world, of course.**

 

"Bull," Sans growls.

 

**So little faith.**

 

"Wonder how that happened," Sans says, tone sharp.

 

“Sans, just who the heck is Gaster anyways?” you ask.

 

Sans grimaces and glances at you. “I'd really rather not go into that.”

 

“Remember the whole no more secrets bit?”

 

**Who I am is unimportant. Moving forward-**

 

“Shut it G. Remember what I said about timelines getting further apart from each other the further you get from Frisk's starting point?” Sans asks.

 

“Yeah, I do.”

 

“It goes both ways, past and future. There’re usually a few points of convergence, but aside from those the timelines can be pretty different. Only thing that stays the same for all of them is Frisk falling.”

 

“Okay, so?’

 

“So who Gaster is depends on the timeline you're in. Aside from being a skeleton monster and the Royal Scientist, he's been a million different things.”

 

“Including a sarcastic asshole?”

 

“Yup.”

 

_So why do you know all of this?_

 

Frisk asks Chara’s question for them.

 

“‘Cause we're usually connected somehow. Boss, friend, father, coworker, running experiments on me n’ Pap, it changes from timeline to timeline. ”

 

**As I said, unimportant.**

 

You and Frisk glance at each other. The kid looks just as confused as you do, so they haven't heard this story before. Well, at least you aren't the only one stuck in the dark here. You make a mental note to ask Sans later which Gaster he thinks you're dealing with this time. You've actually got a lot of Gaster related questions now that you think about it.

 

“Okay.... So then why is he all... Uh, well, I'm not sure what he is, but he hasn't always been like that, has he?"

 

Sans shrugs, apparently unwilling to answer you.

 

**Oh, that's easy. You see, I fell into the Core - or, in some timelines, I was pushed.**

 

Sans flinches away from the computer. That... leaves you with more questions than answers.

 

"Okay, this is getting confusing, let's move forward. What were you saying before, Gaster?"

 

**I was going to suggest resetting the game so that Sans could see it for himself.**

 

"Oh..." you say, staring at the screen sadly.

 

"Uh, s'that a problem?" Sans asks.

 

"No, I mean I get why you'd want to play it for yourself but, well... I guess it makes me feel kinda guilty?"

 

"S'not like it's gonna reset reality."

 

"I know that. I just... I mean, I gave them their happy ending because I figured they deserved it and now they've been left alone for years and resetting it just feels wrong, I guess," you admit.

 

**Pointless sentimentality.**

 

You bristle at his tone - hell, how he could even have a tone was beyond you, but there's definitely a undertone of derision and superiority there. "Thanks, I'm aware."

 

"I dunno, I'd have to agree. It does feel wrong," Sans admits. "Like I'd be jinxing us."

 

Is it important to reset it?  Frisk asks.

 

"It would be more of a curiosity thing," Sans admits.

 

Could we maybe leave it alone? 

 

"Ya know, I think I like that idea. S'not like we're gonna learn anythin' new from it," Sans says, closing the game. You release an inward sigh of relief, glad to have spared your save file.

 

**Your loss. Now, the human did inform you of my instructions and warning, yes?**

 

"Yeah, we know about the timeline problems," Sans replies.

 

**Good. Then you should already know what to do. A fair warning - I have reason to believe that this timeline will be a good deal different from the last.**

 

"You mean aside from the obvious changes?" you ask.

 

**Yes, because the obvious changes have had a cascade effect. As you learned with Toriel, an adult in the underground is of far greater concern than a child. Things will not be the same this time around.**

 

"Couldja be a little bit more ambiguous? I thought I might've almost understood that garbage," Sans says.

 

**You will see the changes for yourselves, no need for me to spoil them for you. In the meantime, Papyrus will be arriving in twenty three seconds, I would advise you to wrap this little meeting up.**

 

"Shoot," Sans mutters, glancing at the door to his room.

 

"It's fine, I think we've got enough information for now. Gaster, can we contact you at any time with my laptop?"

 

**If I am not otherwise occupied, yes.**

 

"Good. We're going to need to talk more but for now let's get out there and pretend like we've spent this entire time talking about pasta or something," you say, closing your laptop and making for the door.

 

Frisk and Sans follow you out, and not a moment too soon. The front door slams open, causing the windows to shake violently. Papyrus is already shouting his greetings, eliminating any need to guess who might be causing such a ruckus.

 

"Hello, new friends! Have you been enjoying yourselves here? I was informed that my brother would be keeping you company, I certainly hope he didn't spend his entire time napping! Oh, and- " Papyrus continues, chattering excitedly. He seems even more animated than usual, probably something to do with having guests over. He leads your group back downstairs with the promise of a "Fantastic spaghetti dinner, courtesy of one of two of the best chefs the underground has to offer!".

 

You sign a quick 'We'll talk later,' to Sans when nobody can see, and he nods in return. Luckily Papyrus' enthusiasm makes up for your complete lack of energy and allows you to mostly remain silent throughout the meal, mulling over the information in your head. In your attempt to make everyone talk things out you'd apparently only uncovered more mysteries and carefully hidden information. Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed Frisk's concerned glances, and perhaps even Papyrus' much more covert ones. You might also have noticed that Sans was buried deeply in his thoughts, or that one of the shadowy corners of the kitchen was just a bit darker than the others. But you don't, although you do notice that Sans hadn't been lying - Papyrus' cooking had really improved in the time since he'd come aboveground. If only that knowledge had carried across the timelines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: One of my New Years resolutions was to fix my sleeping schedule. No more staying up until 2 AM, I said. No more sleeping in until noon, I said. HAH. (It's going to be almost 2 AM where I am by the time I post this, and yesterday I was up until 4 AM writing a mermaid/human Alphyne AU ficlet that I didn't even finish. Sigh.)
> 
> To be really clear, in case anyone wants to get on my case about this - whenever the narrator refers to the kill all monsters route of Undertale, it's going to be called no mercy, mostly because the use of the term genocide bothers some people. However to Sans, it is a mass genocide of all of the monsters, and he will probably continue referring to it as such. So while I hope it doesn't bother anyone, I will continue having him use the term genocide when referring to the no mercy runs.
> 
> So, to answer the obvious question of just who the hell Gaster is, it's simple - he's everything! Sort of. It'll become clearer soon, but yes, Gaster is all of those people and both he and Sans lived through those timelines. As to why Gaster in particular varies so much from timeline to timeline, there is a good explanation but you're just gonna have to wait and see what it is! 
> 
> Gaster is such an ass. Especially when he says he'll respond if he isn't busy. What the hell is he gonna be bust doing? Knitting? He's got some serious sass goin' on. (Again yes, I do have a reason!)
> 
> We're going to be taking a break from your regularly scheduled angst next chapter to get some more plot points nailed down, as well as just a general kind of happy break. The characters could use it I think. After that will be a lot of pain! Do I mean for you as the reader? You as the Reader? Sans? Frisk? Someone else? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ And after that.... Well, I'm looking forward to that bit myself.


	27. Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised less sads but then I realized I had the perfect opportunity for... more sad? So, uh, have some mixed feelings instead. (Cute fluff next chapter. Probably?)
> 
> I have added a new chapter! Chapter 22 is now a brand new chapter, but you CAN skip it. It's basically just chapter 21 but from Sans' point of view, so it is in no way revealing new information, although it does make a couple of things a bit clearer.
> 
> Beta Reader: The lovely nozomistarotcards (You can find her on tumblr!)

Ultimately Frisk ends up sleeping in Papyrus' bed with him while you take the couch. After all, even the ever supportive Papyrus might have a bit of a problem with finding out that his brother was in a relationship with someone who, to the best of Papyrus' knowledge, Sans had only met a few hours ago. Still, you'd noticed how subdued Sans had been after dinner, and you were worried. You wait for a bit more than an hour after everyone's gone to bed - making sure to take a few minutes of that time to leave Toriel a voicemail and inform her that the both of you are safe and you've found her friend - before you slowly creep upstairs to Sans' room. You don't dare knock, instead slowly opening the door, careful not to make any noise.

 

"Sans?" you whisper, just loud enough that he should be able to hear if he's awake.

 

When there's no reply, you edge into his room and softly close the door behind you.

 

"Sans?"

 

The lump on the bed shifts, and bright blue magic lights up the room. It comes, not from his eye, but from a pair of orbs nestled near the ceiling.

 

“What?” he signs, expression distant.

 

“I... just thought maybe you'd appreciate some company?” you sign back uncertainly.

 

“You thought wrong.”

 

"Oh," you whisper, the word leaving your mouth before you'd really had time to think it through.

 

Sans must be able to read your hurt in your face, because he refuses to meet your gaze as he signs, I just... I need some space, okay? There's too much going on, I need to figure some stuff out.

 

You don't trust yourself to respond, so you just nod and exit his room. That had hurt more than you'd thought it would. But hey, whatever. It's not your problem if he wants to sit and stew over nothing, that's his business. Not like you were dating or anything, you thought bitterly.

 

You grimace at yourself, glad you hadn't stuck around to say these things to him. If there's one thing you know, it's that anger makes people do and say stupid things, and you can't always take it back afterwards. Sure, you're pissed at him, but he's got a right to want to be alone. At least that's what you're going to tell yourself, because being irritated was going to get you exactly nowhere.

 

You flop back down onto the couch with maybe a bit more force than was entirely necessary, sighing.

 

_Awh, things aren't going well in lover land?_

 

You flip Chara off, closing your eyes. Stupid brat needs to keep their nose out of your business.

 

 _My nose is eternally stuck in your business_.

 

You swallow thickly. *I didn't say that out loud,* you think.

 

_Oh come on, did you really think that I wouldn't be able to hear your thoughts?_

 

*Darn, you're right, should've known that from my last experience with a ghost hanging out in my head,* you think, injecting as much sarcasm as you can into your thoughts before sighing again. *Sorry, that was bad. I'm a little irritable at the moment, you should leave me alone.*

 

When Chara doesn't reply, you figure that they must be gone and nestle further into your blankets. The couch is more comfortable than you'd expected, but that doesn't mean you're finding it easy to sleep. The anger has settled into your stomach like a rock and fear and worry were beginning to seep into the mix. You'd just kind of assumed that Sans would be able to accept how everything was changing - it certainly didn't seem to be bothering Frisk.

 

 _They don't care much, no_.

 

*Again, please leave me alone.*

 

_It's not like I'm spending time with you because I want to get to know you better. Frisk's already asleep, and that's boring._

 

*Great, and that's what I'm trying to do too.*

 

_You aren't gonna be able to sleep._

 

*Oh yeah?*

 

 _Are you?_ they asked pointedly.

 

*Alright, fine, yeah, I know I'm not gonna be sleeping for a while. What's it to you?*

 

_We could go on a walk?_

 

*It's the middle of the night. And it's freezing outside, so I'm gonna have to say no kiddo.*

 

_I'm not a child!_

 

*... Sorry, I just kind of assumed,* you apologize, realizing that you don't actually know how old Chara is. Was? *How old are you, anyways?"

 

 _Older than you_ , they declare triumphantly.

 

*By how much?*

 

_... That's none of your business._

 

You bite your lip to choke off your chuckle. *You are a kid, aren't you?*

 

 _Am not! I just don't know how long I've been dead,_ they say, sullen.

 

*Well how old were you when you died?*

 

 _I was an adult already, I'd just turned fourteen,_ they declare proudly.

 

You break out laughing, covering your mouth with your hand to stifle the noise.

 

_That isn't funny!_

 

Your only response is renewed laughter, your attempts to remain quiet resulting in undignified snorting and choked noises. Thankfully, everybody was a relatively sound sleeper and you don't wake anyone up as you slowly calm down, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes.

 

_Are you quite done?_

 

You can't help a few more giggles escaping before you're coherent enough to think, *I don't know, that was pretty funny kiddo.*

 

_I'm an adult, I just told you!_

 

*Maybe if we were in medieval times,* you respond. *Nowadays, you're a kid. And I don't think you get to count as an adult for sleeping for a few years until Frisk fell.*

 

Chara grumbles. _I am too an adult._

 

*Nope.*

 

_Do kids kill entire races?_

 

*..... Apparently,* you reply. It's a strange thought. It's more than obvious to you that Chara is a child, both from this conversation and their previous statements. And yet they're also a murderer in other timelines, that much is apparent.

 

 _I'm definitely a murderer_ , Chara agrees.

 

*But why? The monsters treated you well, so it must've been humans that hurt you. Your parents...?*

 

 _My parents were good people, they wouldn't ever hurt me!_ they reply, indignant.

 

*Okay... So what happened?*

 

_None of your business._

 

*Hey, you said it yourself, we're each other's only company,* you think to them, anger flaring momentarily as you think about Sans before pushing it to the back of your mind.

 

_Doesn't mean I want to talk to you._

 

*Hey, you're the one that came to me. But you don't have to answer that question, I've got a new one for you. Did you really do all of the killing, or did Frisk take part?*

 

_Of course I didn't, the smiley trashbag already told you about that._

 

*Whoever was controlling Frisk's body was still killing people even though they'd spoken with Sans. So who was it?*

 

You feel the presence in your mind vanish, and you frown. *Chara?*

 

There's no response, and you get the feeling that they've actually left this time. That was... odd? You aren't sure what the heck that means, except that there were yet more unanswered questions and mysteries. Hell, you still aren't even sure what you were supposed to be accomplishing. Everything's messed up; Sans is mad, maybe with you, you aren't sure, your burns are still smarting, Undyne and Asgore are giant, looming threats on the horizon, Ferrin is never going to forgive you for this, and there were six kids whose deaths were unexplained. Great, just... great.

  
\---------------------  


As predicted, you get up the following morning having only gotten a few hours of sleep. Papyrus is out the door almost before you get a chance to say good morning, apparently off to check his puzzles. He shouts back from the doorway that Frisk is still sleeping, and that Sans probably won't be up for hours. You wave at him, then yawn and stumble into the kitchen where a pot of coffee is already brewing, thank goodness. You're reaching to pour some for yourself when you notice a mug on the counter with a note next to it. A closer inspection reveals that the folded note has your name on it, and simply reads 'I'm sorry', in a familiar scrawl. A pen placed next to the paper gives you an idea of the plan.

 

You allow yourself a small smile as you write back, 'I understand, you had a lot on your mind,' before grabbing the coffee and turning away. You take a seat at the table so that you're facing the opposite direction of the paper. The sound of one of Sans' shortcuts and rustle of paper tells you that you've guessed his intentions correctly, and you sip at the coffee while you wait for his reply. Surprisingly, he'd gotten it just how you like it. Or maybe not so surprisingly, considering that he had usually been in the kitchen when you'd prepared it.

 

The pen drops with a clunk onto the table while the paper flutters down in front of you. 'Still do, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Please accept my apology?'

 

You idly wonder if someone had suggested this mode of apology, then feel a faint suspicion that he may have used it with Toriel before brushing that aside. 'You made me lose an entire night of sleep, you know.'. You push the paper and pen to the very corner of your vision, hoping you can get a glimpse of his magic. A moment later the tearing sound echoes again, but whatever he's doing is just out of sight as he pulls them towards him. Makes sense, you suppose he must be watching somehow if he knows when you've finished writing.

 

After a moment his reply falls in front of you again, pen narrowly missing your coffee. 'I'm sorry. For a lot of things. I get it if you're mad at me, I probably would be too.'

 

Alright, that's enough guilt tripping on your part. 'I'm not mad at you, silly. You've had a very stressful last two days, I can understand if you needed alone time. I'll even forgive you, on two conditions.'

 

You push the paper into the same spot as before and he retrieves it. You spend the wait time looking around the room without being too obvious.  It occurs to you that he's taken a bit longer than before to reply, and you idly wonder why. Perhaps he wouldn't want to agree to unknown terms?

 

You yip and then start laughing when the paper is slipped into the back of your shirt. You reach around and discover that he'd also hooked the pen onto the neckline.

 

'Deal. What are your conditions?'

 

'One, you're going to take me on a date today. Two, you and I are going to meet up with Toriel at whatever time you usually meet with her, because you worried her to death and I promised to say hi.'

 

The exchange takes place and a moment later you hear the tearing sound again. You're look for the paper, confused, when bony arms covered in thick blue cloth wrap around your shoulders.

 

"Morning lazybones," you say, leaning into the embrace.

 

"Mornin' to you too," he says.

 

"So does that mean you agree?"

 

"You drive a hard bargain," he says. "After all, I've got a full day of doing nothing scheduled. But I think I can move some things around if it's for you."

 

"Good," you reply, twisting in his arms to plant a kiss on his teeth.

 

He doesn't look like he'd gotten much more rest than you, his ever present circles even darker than usual, but he does give you a genuine smile as he pours himself some of the coffee he'd probably put on. Papyrus almost never drank the stuff, so you can't imagine he would've made it.

 

"Are you mad?" you ask, staring down at the table.

 

"Uh no, why would I be?"

 

"I figured, you know, with the game and all..."

 

Sans snorts as he takes a seat next to you. "C'mon, give me some credit. I'm not such an idiot that I think a game has some kind of effect on reality."

 

You raise an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

 

"I mean it. I'm not gonna blame you for playing a game. I'll admit that it's a bit weird," he says, shrugging, "But no, not mad about that."

 

"So why did you seem angry last night?"

 

"I wasn't angry with you, I just needed some time to myself. But the reason I was acting like that has more to do with doctor G."

 

"What did he do?"

 

Sans chuckles darkly. "It's more a question of what he didn't do. He didn't do anything in this timeline, but in others, he was disgusting. I don't really wanna get into it now though, if that's okay."

 

"I've got enough to think about without anything else," you agree. "Besides, I think I hear Frisk on the stairs. You guys have anything we could eat?"

 

"There's a bunch a spaghetti in the fridge," Sans offers.

 

You roll your eyes. "As much as I like your brother, his cooking isn't exactly edible. Even Frisk has to draw the line somewhere."

 

"Fair enough," Sans agrees as Frisk walks into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of their eyes. "Hey kiddo, you up for Grillby's for breakfast?"

 

Frisk nods eagerly.

 

"Sounds like a plan," you agree. "Go on upstairs and get ready, okay Frisk?"

 

They nod and dart back up the staircase.

 

"I have to ask... Chara. Can they, you know...?" Sans asks, eyeing you uncomfortably.

 

"I don't think so. No guarantees though. Do you really think that they'd try to ruin this?"

 

"They've done it before," he says darkly.

 

You nod as Frisk comes back downstairs and the three of you head to Grillby's. There's yet another thing to keep in mind, you suppose.

  
  
\-----------------------  
  


You wave to the dog sentries, grin wide as the three of you leave. They'd all been incredibly kind, especially to Frisk, who they'd treated like an especially cute puppy. Frisk, being Frisk, had loved every minute of it, excitedly pointing and occasionally using you as a translator and once even posing on the table (you'd caught a glimpse of Grillby restraining himself from asking them not to do that and made sure the incident hadn't been repeated). They're currently in between you and Sans, holding onto both of your hands with their (somewhat greasy) fingers.

 

The walk to the Ruins' door is nice, although you don't see Papyrus anywhere. You ask Sans why.

 

"Oh, he's prob'ly off 'training' with Undyne," he replies.

 

"That reminds me, when did 'training' turn into actually training?" you ask.

 

"Once we got to the surface, Undyne realized that monsters needed to be able to defend themselves. So she and a few others set up training the ones they thought showed promise."

 

"Ahh, of course." That actually makes a lot of sense. You're just glad that Papyrus had never had a reason to go all out with you, or anyone else for that matter.

 

You can't help it - you stiffen when you reach the spot where you'd encountered Sans before, feet crunching across the same space where you'd died not so long ago. You tell yourself that you're being an idiot as you force yourself to relax, then glance at Sans. He was also visibly bothered, and you sigh mentally. Of course something like that wouldn't just go away, but it would be convenient if it did.

 

When your group pauses just outside the door, Sans holds a finger to his mouth and you and Frisk both nod.

 

He raps his knuckles against the door, saying, "Knock knock."

 

"Oh! Thank goodness, you are alright! Did something happen?" Toriel's worried and somewhat muffled voice says from behind the door.

 

"'M fine, but that's no way to respond to a knock knock joke," Sans says.

 

"Oh, of course. Who is there?"

 

"Betcha."

 

"Betcha who?"

 

"Bless you!"

 

Toriel starts giggling, and Sans looks thoroughly proud of himself. You and Frisk share an exasperated glance, and you're about to speak when he motions for you to be quiet.

 

"But also, betcha can't guess who I've got here with me," he says.

 

"Hey T - I mean, hello, uh, friend," you say. Sans has already warned you that Toriel prefers to go unnamed and unknown until she reveals herself, and if that's what she wants then you'll do your best to comply.

 

"Oh! Hello, my friends. I see that you have found my friend safely!" Toriel says cheerfully.

 

"Yup, Frisk and I are fine," you say, glancing down at Frisk, who signs up at you. "Frisk says hi, by the way."

 

"Where were you? I was quite worried," Toriel says.

 

"Sorry 'bout that, Pap got sick," Sans lies easily. "Didn't wanna leave him on his own."

 

You suppose telling the truth wouldn't be a very good idea, but lying to Toriel just feels wrong. Sans probably feels the same, but he still manages to sound sincere.

 

Toriel expresses her concern about Papyrus, giving Sans a long list of ideas on how to help him heal before the four of you end up talking about Snowdin and the sentries. Sans is making an obvious effort to throw in as many terrible jokes as he possibly can, but you're a bit more surprised at Toriel's puns and jokes than his. She feels a bit freer than before, like she's more comfortable here, which makes sense considering that it is her home.

 

The conversation is great and so is the laughter and fun that accompanies it, but a quick check of your new phone tells you that it's getting late.

 

"Knock knock," you say.

 

Sans glances at you in surprise, and you raise an eyebrow at him. Hey, nobody said you couldn't do comedy.

 

"Who is there?" Toriel replies.

 

"Basket."

 

"Basket who?"

 

"Basket home, it's getting dark," you finish, grinning triumphantly.

 

Sans and Toriel actually laugh at your joke, and you vow then and there to never tell anyone that you'd heard that one from somebody else. Frisk is looking at you in mock betrayal, pouting.

 

"Awh, come on, it wasn't that bad," you tell them, and they just roll their eyes.

 

"You're prob'ly right though," Sans agrees. "'S getting late, sorry lady."

 

"I quite understand, I myself should be heading back as well. Will you be visiting again soon?" Toriel asks, voice hopeful.

 

"'Course I will," Sans replies, looking up at you.

 

"We'll be visiting with your friend here, if that's alright with you," you say, Frisk nodding in agreement.

 

"I would love the company," Toriel replies warmly.

 

"Then we'll definitely be back. You remember what I said I was going to do, right?" you ask, hoping that she hasn't forgotten your promise to break the barrier and show her the sun again.

 

"Yes, but I still consider it incredibly ill advised, my friend," Toriel says, voice full of concern. Sans looks at you, questioning, and you wave a hand at him.

 

"I said I was going to do it, so I've got to now. But if I'm gone for a bit, that's where I am. I'm going to break that damn barrier and get you guys out of here, and you're gonna leave the Ruins and come join us, okay?"

 

Toriel falls silent for a moment before saying, "I do not want you hurting yourself for our sakes."

 

"I'll be fine," you assure her.

 

"If the barrier locking us in here really does fall... Then yes, I will join you," Toriel agrees.

 

Everyone exchanges goodbyes before the three of you begin your trek back to Snowdin.

 

"What did you promise her?" Sans asks.

 

"Nothing much, just said I was going to break down the barrier and set you all free," you respond as casually as possible.

 

"Ah, no wonder Tori thought you were insane."

 

"Hey, it's happened before, and it'll happen again."

 

"Fair enough," Sans shrugs.

 

You notice Frisk shivering despite your best efforts to wrap them as warmly as possible and suggest a shortcut to Sans. A moment later you're standing in warmth once more, grinning up at Papyrus, who had, of course, been cooking again. All in all a good day, even if you do need to inform Sans later that you aren't going to count that trip to Grillby's with Frisk as as real date.

  
\-----------------------  
  


It’s late, it's dark, and Ferrin can't relax. She sighs and stares down at her phone. Three days. You’ve been gone for three days and she's worried sick. Sure, you're texting her, but something feels… off. Almost like it isn't you who's sending the texts.

 

Thinking back, she wishes she'd stopped you then, no matter how determined you'd looked. She'd thought she was doing the right thing at the time. Now? Now she isn't so sure.

 

She hits the little call button, listens as it rings, sits through your recorded voice telling her you're busy, but will return the call as soon as possible.

 

“Hey, [your name]. I uh… I've left a lot of messages, I know. The texts are nice and all but… do you think you could maybe call me if you get a chance? I just wanna know that you're safe. Sorry for the trouble…. I love you. Stay safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning: I will NOT be marking future chapters if/when the Reader dies. You had your warning in chapter 21, and it does ruin the surprise. If you do need to be warned because things like that bother you, leave a comment here and I'll be sure to warn you before chapters where it happens, but be forewarned, Reader doesn't have 36 tries for no reason.
> 
> I love it when young teens say things like 'I'm thirteen and I'm an adult.' Nah buddy, you're at that weird point where you aren't really a kid but you're definitely not an adult. It sucks, but hey, so does puberty.
> 
> Is the writer planning something with Ferrin? Maaaybe. Maaaaybe not.
> 
> Sorry that this one isn't exactly cheerful, I'll be going for a bit more levity next chapter! Also, well, I'd like to give you something cheerful before we run into chapters even I'm sad about.
> 
> Also, just a bit of an update on my writing schedule, I'm taking a very full load of college classes this semester, and I do work part-time, so once school starts up (my first day is February first) the update schedule is going to follow more of a whenever it is that I get a chance to write kind of schedule. I'll try to put in warnings when I expect to not be able to write for a while, like final days or days when I happen to have a lot due, but that's just how things are going to go. While school will take priority, I promise to keep working on this fic and I swear I have so much determination to finish this I would probably just come back like Frisk did if I died, so no need to worry!


	28. Snow Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ready to be out of sad land? I'm ready to be out of sad land, so here we go, domestic fluff and very little else! (Before we go straight back into sad land. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ )
> 
> Beta reader: nozomistarotcards! You can find her on tumblr!

You wake up to little hands patting at your face. You groan as they reach up to shake your shoulder, then start laughing as larger hands snatched the blanket off of you, accompanied by a loud voice that says, "The child and I are going to make snowmen! Would you care to join us, [your name]?"

 

"It's like, five in the morning," you groan, throwing your arm over your eyes.

 

"Hardly! It is, as a matter of fact, nine in the morning! Do not tell me that my brother's bad habits have already begun to rub off on you?" Papyrus asks.

 

"I'm plenty lazy enough without his help, thank you very much," you reply, yawning. You're not really irritated about being woken up, although you aren't exactly against going back to sleep...

 

"My friend shall not be allowed to laze about all day! You simply must join us!"

 

"Maybe later," you say, waving him off lazily.

 

Papyrus lets out an exasperated huff and you're just about to give in and get up when Frisk clambers up onto the sofa to sit firmly on your stomach. They don't weigh enough to be crushing you - they're a small kid, despite their height - but they're definitely too heavy for you to be able to go back to sleep with them on top of you. You move your arm a fraction of an inch so you can peer at them with one bleary eye before sticking your tongue out at them. They reply in kind.

 

Get up , they sign.

 

"Dun wanna," you say around your tongue, which is still hanging out of your mouth.

 

You have to!

 

"Do not."

 

Yes you do!

 

"Nuh-uh, I can just laze around a~ll day."

 

That's not allowed!

 

"Oh really? Who's gonna make me get up, huh?"

 

I will ! they sign determinedly.

 

"And what if I fight back?"

 

"Then I shall be obliged to assist Frisk in their endeavors!" Papyrus interjects.

 

We're gonna win anyways!

 

"Oh ho, don't you know what happens to kids that try to pick fights with adults?" you ask, a grin splitting your face.

 

They shrug, eyes bright with anticipation, and you grab them, awkward as it is from your position. They shriek in laughter as you tickle their ribs, pushing against you ineffectively. After a few moments of rough housing and loud laughter you let them scramble away. They glare at you from a safe distance, still giggling.

 

"Isn't it a bit early to be raising the dead?" a deep voice says from above you and you lean back to grin up at Sans, who is watching the three of you fondly. 

 

"Nah, we're just making sure a certain bag of bones doesn't sleep in until noon," you reply.

 

"Hey, leave my sleeping schedule out of it," he chuckles.

 

"Your timing is impeccable brother! As I was just saying, we must bond with our new friends, and Frisk would like to go build snowmen! I have valiantly offered our assistance in their endeavor!" Papyrus declares, striking a dramatic pose.

 

"I dunno Pap, cool as that sounds I might have to say no," Sans replies.

 

"SANS!" Papyrus groans, "That one was awful!"

 

"I thought it was alright," you say, earning you another groan from Papyrus and a chuckle from Sans.

 

"Please do not encourage him," Papyrus pleads.

 

"I don't think he needs much encouragement, he's pretty punny already," you say, barely managing to keep a straight face.

 

Papyrus stares at you for a few moments, an expression of mock betrayal on his face, before he throws his arms up in the air and stalks into the kitchen, muttering under his breath.

 

"I'm sorry!" you shout after him, apology only somewhat ruined by your laughter.

 

Papyrus' voice echoes from the kitchen. "While I have complete faith in the integrity of my friends, I have cause to believe that you are being facetious and therefore do not accept your apology!"

 

You laugh again, waving Frisk over. They come closer, eyes suspicious. They must have been expecting another tickle attack, you realize, amused as you fish through your backpack. When you reveal the brush in your hand, Frisk pulls a face. You roll your eyes at them.

 

"Sit down, we're gonna fix that birds nest you call hair," you say.

 

Frisk plops down onto the couch near you, offering their head to you. You're gentle, starting from the very bottom of their hair and moving up to their scalp. Frisk doesn't make any noises of protest, so you assume you're not hurting them. Their hair is silky smooth under your fingertips, and you smile to yourself, remembering doing this for Ferrin when you were younger and she'd broken her arm being a ridiculous daredevil. Frisk isn't much like Ferrin - their personalities weren't very similar and she'd been a loud kid - but the feeling of caring for someone else is similar.

 

At some point Sans must have come downstairs because just as you finish brushing through Frisk's hair you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders from behind.

 

"Papyrus is going to notice," you mutter, keeping your voice as low as possible as you dart a glance towards the kitchen.

 

Sans just shrugs, but you notice he's plenty quick enough to pull away before his brother can exit the kitchen. In the couple of seconds that Papyrus spends upstairs he plants a kiss on your lips, causing Frisk to mimic gagging. He winks at them before disappearing into the kitchen, reappearing a few moments later with his morning coffee and yours, mercifully. You thank him as he hands it to you.

  
  
\-----------------------------------------  
  
  


A few well timed puns and much half-hearted complaining on you and Sans' part later, the four of you set out into the snow. Papyrus claims to know the perfect spot to build snowmen, so you follow him through town back towards the bridge.

 

As your group makes for the forest, bright lights and colorful wrapping paper catch your eye. You gesture at the tree with its mountain of presents. "You guys celebrate Christmas?"

 

"Nah, it's for Gyftmas. Same idea, less religion," Sans replies.

 

"Ahh. Is it on a specific day?"

 

"Yup. It's comin' up soon, actually."

 

You light up as something clicks in your brain. "So you could say," you pause for effect, "That it's the Gyftmas ski-son?"

 

Sans laughs, and to your surprise so does Papyrus. When you turn to him with an eyebrow raised, he looks back at you, puzzled.

 

"Don't you hate puns?" you ask.

 

"Not at all! I enjoy them on occasion, but my brother," he says, glaring down at Sans, "Tells them constantly! And always the same ones!"

 

"Sorry bro, but I got snow new material," Sans says. Frisk puts a hand up to their mouth to stifle their giggles.

 

"That is exactly what I mean, brother!" Papyrus says, throwing his hands up in the air. If Papyrus was genuinely even half as irritated by them as he pretends to be you're sure Sans would've stopped making them by now, but you decide against mentioning that.

 

  
\-----------------------------------  
  


 

Your group eventually reaches a clearing that Papyrus declares absolutely ideal for snowmen, and construction begins. Papyrus and Frisk team up to make a snow Papyrus while you settle for a more traditional snowman. Sans, of course, doesn't help at all, preferring to slump up against a snowdrift and catch up on sleep. 

 

A while later you're standing next to your nearly finished snowman, his head resting on the ground next to your boot. You're about to begin the struggle to lift it up onto his body when it floats up on its own. You turn around to find Sans standing behind you, blue magic fading.

 

“You're not getting any credit for the snowman for that,” you inform him.

 

“Ouch, no need for the cold shoulder.”

 

“Terrible,” Papyrus groans from where he and Frisk have just barely finished adding a six pack to the snowman.

 

“I have to agree, that one was pretty bad,” you tell Sans.

 

“The crowd’s just a bit chilly tonight,” Sans says with a wink.

 

You roll your eyes and watch Papyrus and Frisk finish up their snowman. You're not really sure how they managed to do it, but it does vaguely resemble Papyrus. Well, if he was capable of even having muscles in the first place. It's as Papyrus crouches down to grab another handful of snow that a terrible idea comes to mind.

 

You're supposed to be an adult you remind yourself, eyeing the back of Papyrus' head. Just because this is the perfect opportunity to peg the poor, innocent skeleton with a snowball doesn't mean that you should take it. You should just... a hell, who're you kidding? 

 

You swoop down and squeeze together a quick snowball before drawing your arm back to hurl the snow. Just as you're about to release your projectile, a snowball with a suspiciously blue aura around it flies through the air and hits the back of Papyrus' head. He startles and spins around just as your snowball - already on its way to his skull by the time you'd realized someone else had the same idea - completes its arch and hits him in the face. Sans, already snickering behind you, starts full on laughing. You cover your mouth to stifle your own giggles as he swipes at the snow now covering his face indignantly.

 

"I see... betrayed by my friend and my own brother," Papyrus says, posing dramatically as though he's taken a deadly wound. "Then war it is!"

 

He hurls the handful of snow that was originally intended for completing his snowman's sunglasses towards you. You dive to avoid a snowball to the face and hear it connect to something with a splat. You turn to see Sans standing still, face now covered in snow. Papyrus lets out a self-satisfied "Nyeh heh heh!"

 

"Oh now it's on," Sans says, snow sliding down his teeth as he stoops to gather ammunition.

 

Frisk quickly teams up with Papyrus, the two of them working together seamlessly. You and Sans, on the other hand, are equal parts allies and enemies - he takes any available opportunity to throw snowballs at you, and you once stuff his hood full of snow and manage to slam it down over his head before he can retaliate. Snowdrifts serve as convenient hiding spaces, and you're having the time of your life even if you are getting soaked.

 

You dart out from behind your fort to fling a pair of snowballs that narrowly miss both of your targets. You're pelted with more snow as you dive back behind your shelter laughing. 

 

At some point your team had been reduced to just you as Sans napped behind one of the snow forts. Time for your revenge. You snicker and creep towards him, snowball in hand. Just as you get within easy reach loud laughter echoes through the clearing and you look up to find that Papyrus has placed Frisk on his shoulders. They're probably planning an attack, you think, turning back towards Sans. Or where Sans had been, because there's nothing there except snow. 

 

"You can't prank the pun master," he whispers into your ear from behind.

 

You realize what's about to happen but can't move away in time, shrieking as he shoves snow down the back of your shirt.

 

"Oh my god Sans that's freezing!" you yip, digging as much of the slush out of your shirt as you can. His only response is laughter, doubling over before a couple of well aimed snowball hit him. You turn to see Papyrus and Frisk giving you thumbs up, and you give them aimed thumbs up back.

 

“We should call it quits,” you say, watching as Sans tries to shake the snow off of his jacket. “I'm freezing, how about you guys?”

 

“Being a skeleton, I do not feel the cold! However, Frisk does seem to be rather chilled,” Papyrus says, jogging over with Frisk still on his shoulders.

 

The walk back to Snowdin mostly takes place in companionable silence - all of the exercise seems to have worn out even the energetic Papyrus. 

 

"Thanks for coming with us Sans," you say as the town comes into view. You hadn't expected him to, figuring he'd prefer to retreat into his room.

 

"Snow skin off my nose," Sans says, winking at you. You laugh even as Papyrus groans in response. This feels good, joking lightheartedly with your friends after.... recent events.

  
  
\--------------------------------  
  
  


Much later, after soaked clothes had been peeled off to dry and everyone's warmed up with blankets and hot cocoa, Papyrus leaves to patrol the forest, even though with the fading light you doubt that he'll be able to see much. The underground does get darker at night despite the lack of sun, probably an effort at maintaining normality. Frisk heads off to sleep early, exhausted by the long day. You tuck them in and wish them goodnight before slipping back out to join Sans on the couch. You're relatively confident in your ability to move away if Papyrus comes home early, so you cuddle up against Sans, laying your head on his chest. He drapes an arm across your back, fingers gently caressing your side. 

 

“Today was fun,” you yawn, watching the TV as Mettaton wheels around a kitchen, apparently showing the viewers how to make lasagna. 

 

“Yeah, it was,” Sans replies.

 

“Do you think we should tell Papyrus that Frisk and I are human? He'd love to know I'm sure.”

 

“Nah, Pap’s terrible at lying. If you told him he'd have to report you to Undyne.”

 

“Ahh, good point,” you murmur, nestling closer to him.

 

You're happy and warm here with him, but there's still something eating away at you. Ferrin. You're a terrible sibling, leaving her all alone, even if you'd had to. Your hand clenches, grabbing onto Sans’ jacket tightly.

 

Sans, of course, notices your sudden change in mood. "Somethin' wrong babe?"

 

You feel warmer at the nickname, causing the guilt to rise even higher. "Not really. It's nothing important."

 

"Nothing important is makin' ya sad after a great day? Sorry, not buyin' it. What's wrong?"

 

You sigh. "No, really, it's nothing much, just...  Ferrin."

 

"Ah," he says. Of course he'd understand, he loves Papyrus just as much as you love your sister.

 

"I mean, I left her up there in that big house all by herself. Hell, the place feels lonely when there're two of us there, and now she's been alone for four days while I'm down here having fun with you guys. Just doesn't seem fair, you know?" you confess.

 

"S'not like you left her there to be cruel," he points out.

 

"I know, just... I wish there was a way to keep her out of danger without having to leave her alone," you sigh.

 

"If she knew, she'd probably thank you for sparing her."

 

"Yeah... I know you're right, I'm not saying I wish she were here. I'm glad she's out of harm's way, I really am. I just, I don't know, felt bad for enjoying myself I suppose."

 

Sans gives your head an affectionate nuzzle. "Hey, no need to be blue. Ferrin wouldn't much like it if you were sad, would she?"

 

"Well... no, I guess not."

 

"See? She'd be happy to know that you're happy."

 

"But...."

 

"Make it up to her when we all get to the surface. Buy her those strawberries she loves, take her down to the lake, but don't spend your time here moping. She wouldn't want that."

 

You do actually feel moderately less guilty if you think about it that way. "You're right. Thank you Sans."

 

"Heh. S'nothin'."

 

"No, really, thank you. For someone who lazes around all the time, you're awfully good at making other people happy," you say, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

 

Sans just shrugs. “S’all part of my charm.”

 

You hum in agreement, getting comfortable. Sure, Papyrus would probably be back soon, but you can afford a few more seconds of warm cuddling. Above you, Sans begins to snore quietly and you smile sleepily. How a skeleton could snore is beyond you. 

 

\-----------------------------------

  
  
  
When you wake up, Sans is still there and snoring softly, and for a moment you're confused. Hadn’t you only been asleep for a minute? It certainly doesn't feel like it, and the lights are off. Oh no, had Papyrus not come home? You feel a flash of panic before you notice the blanket draped across you and Sans. Oops. Papyrus had evidently come back and seen the two of you cuddled up on the couch and decided to make sure you were comfortable before heading off to bed. You almost feel guilty, but instead settle for snuggling as close to Sans as you could get. His arm tightens around you momentarily and you fall asleep against him again, warm and happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Domestic fluff, because why not? Gotta get back to being friends with everybody, even if the only one here who isn't already your friend is Papyrus. (And Chara.)
> 
> I'm going to be adding links to fanart to a couple of chapters, again, not sure if anybody gets updates on that but if you do, that's why I'm editing chapters.
> 
> Also, new PwP should be up sooner rather than later, I'm currently guesstimating some time in the next week or so. I'll be sure to stick a link in whenever I get it done!


	29. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have a nice, lazy day - Ferrin, on the other hand, makes a truly awful discovery.

"Is [your name] still asleep?"

 

You let out a groan, causing the warm, if slightly pokey mass under you to chuckle.

 

"Not anymore," Sans replies.

 

"Ah, fantastic!" Papyrus exclaims. "It is good to see that you two have grown so close already, to be sharing friend cuddles on the couch! That is what you are doing, yes?"

 

"Yup. How'd you know?" Sans asks.

 

"I have seen Alphys and Undyne doing the same! Undyne always shouts at me to leave whenever I walk in on them though," Papyrus muses.

 

You feel a tickle in your nose for just a moment before you sneeze, causing both brothers to stop talking.

 

"Somethin' up, [your name]?"

 

"No, just got the sniffles," you reply before sneezing again.

 

"Argh, that's annoying."

 

"Oh no! Are you sick?" Papyrus asks, worried.

 

You're about to reassure him that you're absolutely fine when a somewhat terrible but undeniably appealing plan comes to mind.

 

"I may be coming down with a cold," you say solemnly.

 

Papyrus, of course, instantly freaks out, screeching about how sorry he is to have done this to you because it most certainly had occurred because he had not been careful enough to ensure your comfort while you were playing in the snow. You start feeling awful for lying right about the time that he says he doesn't deserve your friendship for this blunder.

 

"No, no, Papyrus, listen!" you shout over him, sitting up to grab his hand. "I'm fine, okay? It's my fault, I wasn't feeling too hot yesterday and I decided to go out with you guys anyways."

 

"But I- "

 

"No buts! It's my fault, I was the one not looking out for my own health. So you aren't allowed to feel bad, alright?"

 

"I suppose if you insist..." Papyrus says.

 

"I do," you say, glad that you'd managed to convince him. Of course you felt bad about worrying him, but his volume had shot through the roof while he'd ranted and left you with a bit of a head ache, not to mention ringing ears.

 

Papyrus perks up, saying, "I know just what you need to recover! I shall make you some of my famous recovery spaghetti! It is much like my usual recipe but with extra vegetables and more of my secret ingredient!"

 

You flick a panicked glance at Sans, who has been watching the entire exchange in amusement. He decides to spare you by speaking up.

 

"Bro there's plenty of spaghetti in the fridge," Sans says.

 

"Yes but it is not my special spaghetti!"

 

"The stuff in the fridge'll go bad if we don't eat it soon."

 

"Oh! You are absolutely correct! We cannot let such greatness go to waste! But we cannot serve guests leftovers either!" Papyrus says, torn.

 

"No, no I would love to eat the leftovers," you insist. "How about we all share your special spaghetti some other time?"

 

"Be that as it may be, I simply must do something for you!" Papyrus insists. Perfect.

 

"It would be a lot of help if you watched Frisk for the day," you suggest.

 

Papyrus instantly accepts this alternative solution, darting upstairs to fetch Frisk. They're more than willing to set out on an adventure with the tall skeleton and the two of them are soon ready to leave. Papyrus shouts a few more instructions on how to get well before the door slams shut behind them and you sigh in relief, cuddling up to Sans again.

 

"You actually sick or didja say that to get outta patrolling today?" Sans asks, amused expression saying he already knew the answer.

 

"I love Papyrus, I really do, but I'd give anything for a nice lazy day," you say.

 

Sans chuckles. "Ya don't have to tell me twice."

 

You grin and cuddle up against him, and the two of you spend the rest of the day watching televison. Much to your amusement it turns out that the only televison shows available are Mettaton's, all written by, directed, and acted out by the robot. Papyrus and Frisk wander in from time to time, Papyrus scolding Sans on being lazy while Sans defends himself by saying he's just keeping you company. You don't even feel guilty about taking a day for yourself. You've accomplished quite a bit, taking a breather before you tried to get through Waterfall - and, of course, Undyne - was something you felt that you deserved. You're even spared Papyrus' cooking by Sans, who disappears and came back with Grillby's before Papyrus could offer you spaghetti. All in all, it's a great day.

 

 

\-------------------

 

 

 

“ARGH!” Ferrin shouts, hurling the sponge at the wall.

 

It hits with a less than satisfactory splat and slides to the floor, not helping relieve any of the stress she's feeling. She glares at her phone as though it's the culprit. Nothing. Five whole days of not responding to her phone calls and texting her back moments later with weak excuses. ‘Sorry, can't answer the phone right now.’ ‘I was in the shower, what's up?’ ‘My throat hurts so I can't talk, can we text instead?’ And now you weren't even responding to her texts!

 

She glances down at the soapy plate and begrudgingly walks over to pick up the sponge. Throwing it had probably not been high on her list of good ideas, but she was just so irritated! She was worried too, of course, but honestly, who did this kind of crap? Idiots and children run off without telling anyone where they're going, leaving behind their responsibilities and obligations. She desperately wants to believe that her sibling isn't that big a fool but what other choice does she have?

 

"Seriously. What kind of moron runs off when they've got a huge pile of shit to get done?" she complains to the sponge. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't respond.

 

"I know, right?" she continues, pretending like the object had spoken back to her. "Making me worry is a dick move, thank you for understanding."

 

She grins a bit and says, "Wow Ferrin, you're talking to a sponge. Well, now you're talking to yourself, but you get the idea. Damn this house is quiet. It's freaking me out, to be honest. I mean it's not like their typing ever made a lot of noise but at least they'd come down and complain sometimes, ya know? Or just talk to me. They always talked about the strangest things, I remember one time- "

 

Ferrin jumps as a loud noise echoes from behind her. Against all odds, her phone is ringing and - is it possible? She dives for it, fumbling with wet fingers and yes, thank goodness, you're finally calling her.

 

Her hands shake as she answers the phone. “Give me one reason why I shouldn't fucking murder your ass right- “

 

A tired, heavy, male and distinctly not her sibling’s voice cuts her off. “Ferrin, it's me.”

 

“Wh…. Is that - Abe, why do you have their phone?” Ferrin asks, mind moving at a mile per minute. “Oh my god they aren't hurt, are they? Are they safe?”

 

“Last I heard from them they were fine. But Ferrin….” Abe sighs heavily. “I need you to come over to my house alright? I.... Theres something that we need to discuss.”

 

“Abe, what the hell is going on?”

 

“Look just… this isn't a conversation I want to have over the phone. Can you please just come over?”

 

“Give me twenty,” Ferrin says decisively, hanging up the phone.

 

Thirty three minutes later (she's not psychic, how was she supposed to know she'd misplaced her keys?) she parks in front of Abe’s house and nearly sprints up to the door. It opens before she even gets a chance to knock, revealing Abe standing in the doorway. His eyes are slightly swollen, almost like he's been crying as he waves her inside and closes the door behind her.

 

“So you gonna clue me in on what's going on or nah?” Ferrin asks, settling herself onto the couch. If she couldn't feel nonchalant then she would sure as hell fake it.

 

Abe sighs and runs a hand over his head. “Alright. Five days ago now your sibling came up to me and asked me for a favor.”

 

“Ookay?”

 

“I pride myself on doing what I can to help my friends and family, even when I think that their requests are… Unusual. I like helping people, especially the ones I care about. So when they asked me to text you pretending to be them, I couldn't say no. I didn't want to trick you, believe me, but I couldn't say no to them either. I - I'm so, so sorry,” Abe says, lowering his head into his hands.

 

Ferrin sits there frozen, trying to comprehend what she's just heard. “I - Are you…. I-is this a joke? ‘Cause it's not funny Abe.”

 

Abe silently slides his hand into his pocket and tosses a phone onto the couch beside her. She picks it up tentatively. The make and model are the same, the phone case is the same and… yup, there was your lock screen, you and her pulling silly faces in the snow. Not a joke then, unless it was a particularly cruel one directed at both of them on your part.

 

“What the hell are they thinking?” she chokes out around the tightness in her throat, staring down at your phone.

 

“Heck if I know. They just said that they were going to be out of town and not to worry about them. But I couldn't keep lying to you, Ferrin, not after.... I've felt terrible for the past few days, I'm so sorry, I should've stopped them,” Abe says, “I just thought hey, maybe it'll only be for a day and they'll see how ridiculous this is and come back.”

 

“It's not your fault, okay? This is… well hell if I know what's going on but -”

 

"Today, a car was towed into town," Abe says, cutting her off. "Normally I don't have anything to do with that, but they called me over anyways and.... There's no good way to say this Ferrin. It was their car."

 

"O-okay but that doesn't - it doesn't mean anything, right? They could've just... I don't know, rented a car, right? Where did you guys find it anyways?"

 

“Mt. Ebbot.”

 

“I - What?”

 

“Mt. Ebbot. The vehicle was left at Mt. Ebbot.”

 

Ferrin feels the blood drain from her face. “Fucking christ Abe you had better be kidding me, please, please tell me that you're joking?”

 

Abe shakes his head mutely, face still buried in his hands. Ferrin slumps back on the couch, tears forming in her eyes. Mt. Ebbot. The name of the closest of the group of mountains nearby and a popular suicide spot for as long as anyone can remember. Nobody who climbed it came back, even the daredevils who claimed that they were going to be the ones to crack the mystery of the mountain. If you were there…. If you had….

 

“No.”

 

Abe looks up from his hands, eyes dull and hopeless. "Ferrin I realize that you're in shock right now but -"

 

"I SAID NO!" Ferrin screams, slamming a fist down on the table. Abe jerks back in his seat, staring at her worriedly.

 

"Ferrin. I need you to calm down, okay?" Abe says soothingly. "I know that this is a lot to take in but- "

 

"Abe," Ferrin hisses, teeth clenched, "Shut up."

 

Years of working in the police force tell Abe that it is, indeed, time to shut up. Ferrin shoots to her feet and begins pacing his living room, fists clenched. Several long minutes later, her fists unclench and she drops to the couch.

 

"Have you found a body?" she asks, voice tight.

 

Abe shakes his head. "Nothing yet. We've done a basic search that turned up nothing. One of the farmers down the road has a couple of dogs he's volunteered. If you're willing to give us a used article of their clothing..."

 

"Is there a chance?" she whispers, eyes shining with unshed tears.

 

Abe hesitates. In all honesty, he doesn't think that there is. This has all of the marks of a suicide, certainly. But there's just one thing that gives him enough cause to believe that he won't be lying if he tells her that it's possible. When you'd spoken to him in the store you hadn't looked sad or hopeless. You'd looked more alive than you had in years - a little scared, sure, but more than that you'd looked determined.

 

"I think there might be."

 

Ferrin releases a shaky breath. "Thank god. Thank god.... Is there anything else?"

 

"Not currently. We've found the car - no suicide note, nothing in there that gives us any reason to believe that they didn't just up and walk off for a camping trip. We can't imagine it's anything but their own free will that caused them to leave, so foul play isn't currently a working theory."

 

Ferrin stares down at the coffee table, shoulders hunched. After a few long moments of silence she says, "Thank you for telling me. May I take their phone with me or is that considered evidence?"

 

"You can take it. I already ran through everything on there," Abe confesses.

 

Ferrin nods dully and picks up your phone from where she'd dropped it, staring at it silently for a few moments before tucking it into her purse. She stands up and walks to the door.

 

"Ferrin, are you... Would you maybe like some company? I don't mind if you'd like to stay here, Damien already forced me to take the day off," Abe offers, halfway up already.

 

"No thank you," Ferrin says quietly. "I. .. I think I need some time to myself."

 

"Oh. Okay, well, you know me, my door's always open if you need it," Abe offers, concern written all over his face.

 

Ferrin nods and closes the door behind her, walking numbly to her car. She slides in, buckles her seat belt, puts the keys in and drives, mind on autopilot. It's only as she pulls in to park in front of the house that she notices tears sliding down her face.

 

She lets out a choked sob, burying her face in her arms. The person she loves most is gone, and she hadn't been able to do a thing to stop it. Shouldn't she have known? There must've been signs if you'd been planning to kill yourself, right? Had she missed them? Had she just not loved you enough? Obviously she hadn't if you'd felt so alone that dying was the only option. She'd failed you. Failed as a sister, failed as a friend, failed as a human being and now she'd never get the chance to make it up to you. She howls, crying out for you, desperately wishing she could turn back time.

 

But she can't. Nobody comes to comfort her, no warm laugh or tight hug.

 

By the time that she's sobbed herself into silence, nighttime has fallen. There's a gaping void where her chest should be, her throat is on fire and she doesn't need a mirror to tell her that she's a mess. For once, she doesn't care.

 

It slowly dawns on her that she's shivering - the nights are getting longer and colder, it would be snowing soon. She doesn't really care. Maybe if she freezes to death she'll get to see you again.

 

An impatient knock on her window barely catches her attention. She ignores it. Probably just a branch. Or maybe death. Would death knock? Maybe. She idly wonders if she could bargain with death, trade herself for you. A bright light suddenly illuminates the inside of her car. Huh, maybe she'd already died without noticing it.

 

"Ferrin!" Abe shouts. Based on his tone this isn't the first time he's called her name, nor even the second. "Goddamn it kid, open this door or I'll break the window do you hear me?"

 

Ferrin moves her head to stare out the window, squinting at the bright light. Abe must have a flashlight. Not death, then. She'd probably feel disappointed if the void settled in her ribcage would allow it.

 

"Oh thank goodness, I thought - Well, nevermind what I thought. Open the door Ferrin."

 

She looks straight at the flashlight. It's so bright that it hurts, but her brain has turned off and she's not willing to switch it back on.

 

"I said, open the door," Abe orders, voice firm.

 

Ferrin shuts her eyes against the light, but says nothing. She's not even sure that her voice works anymore.

 

"Ferrin, for the love of..." Abe sighs. "The car door is unlocked, I'm going to open it, alright?"

 

When she doesn't reply, he does just that, letting in even more chilled air. Ferrin shivers, the added cold forcing her into alertness.

 

"What are you doing here?" she asks. Or at least that's what she tries to say. Somewhere between her barely moving mind, sore throat and numb lips it had become an indecipherable mess.

 

"I couldn't hear that," Abe says, careful to keep his voice soft and soothing.

 

Ferrin clears her throat, wincing a bit as she repeats her question.

 

"This ain't my first rodeo, I know how this goes. I don't think that you should be alone tonight. Maybe not until we find your sibling," Abe suggests gently.

 

"I..." Ferrin looks forward, at the empty house. All of the lights are off, leaving it dark and foreboding. Your room would be empty as it had been for the past five days, no note or anything to indicate what you were doing. The kitchen was barren, the back yard a mess, the spare rooms -there were so many, it was creepy even on good days - would be full of dust and spiderwebs.

 

"I think I'd like that," she finally says

 

Abe lets out the breath he'd been holding. "I'm glad to hear it Ferrin. Is there anything you need from the house?"

 

She shakes her head mutely, accepting his offered hand. She climbs into his car without a word and he slides into the driver's seat, turning the heat all the way up as he notices her shivering.

 

He doesn't demand any explanations, not on the drive to his house, not when he offers her a hot plate of food and sits down at the table with her and for that Ferrin is grateful. She doesn't eat much, mostly pushing things around on her plate, but the mug of tea is more than welcome. It's sweetened with honey, making her throat a little less painful.

 

"Thank you," she says, breaking the silence.

 

"You're welcome. The spare bedroom is all set up, I should have some unused toothbrushes somewhere, and everything in my home is yours to use," he says softly.

 

"I... Abe, you're a good man, I hope you know that."

 

He smiles sadly. "Thank you Ferrin. I don't think I've done a lot of good this past week though."

 

She shakes her head. "That isn't your fault. I don't blame you."

 

"I should've stopped them," he whispers.

 

"Me too."

 

They sit together in silence, staring down at the table before Abe shakes himself out of his daze.

 

"Are you done with that?" he asks, gesturing at her plate.

 

She nods and he takes it away. The rest of the night is spent avoiding the elephant in the room, as difficult as it is. They wish each other good night before heading off to their beds. Neither of them says anything, but both know that there won't be much sleeping going on tonight.

 

 

\-------------------

 

 

 

The next morning finds Ferrin up early, yanking on her sneakers with determination. She strides out of Abe’s spare room, face set.

 

"Ferrin?" Abe asks uncertainly from the table.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Er, forgive my rudeness but where are you going?"

 

Ferrin spins face him, hands on hips. "I'm going to go find my sibling and smack some sense into them. Then, I'm going to drag them here and force them to apologize to you on their knees. And after that, I'm going to take them home and tie them to their bed so they can't do this to us ever again!"

 

Abe stares after her in surprise as she stalks out of the house, mouth gaping open. What the hell had happened to the defeated girl from last night? He snaps his jaw shut as the door opens and Ferrin looks inside sheepishly.

 

"Uh, before that, mind driving me back to my house?"

 

 

\-------------------

 

 

 

An hour later, Ferrin stands facing the dreaded mountain. It doesn't look even half as scary as she'd thought it would, she thinks to herself. In fact, it looked just like every other mountain out there. Easy peasy.

 

"Alright, [your name]," she declares, striding forward, "I'm gonna find you, and death itself won't stop me!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm out of town and won't be able to respond to comments for a while, I'm very sorry! I'll be back home Sunday and responding to questions then!


	30. Beginning of Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start heading south fast. ('Course, that describes a lot of things in my fic, but hey. I warned ya.)
> 
> Beta Reader: nozomistarotcards, who can be found on tumblr!

"Sans, get up," a whispering voice not dissimilar to a low burning fire calls in his dreams.

 

Sans' eyes blink open to look at Grillby, who is polishing a glass behind the counter. Sans himself is seated on a barstool, one of the last customers left from the lunch rush. The other is a bunny who is barely conscious and mumbling something unintelligible. Drunk already and it was just barely noon, but that was how she lived her life and it wasn't like Sans had much room for criticism. Besides, she usually cleaned up her act a few weeks after the barrier was broken. Her sister was always grateful for that.

 

"Shit, how long've I been asleep?" Sans asks. He'd decided to drop by his usual haunt for lunch before heading back to the house, but the place was so familiar and comfortable that he must have fallen asleep instead.

 

Grillby chuckles softly. "Roughly two hours now."

 

"Crap, they'll be looking for me soon," he says guiltily, rubbing sleep from his eye sockets.

 

"They?" the fire elemental questions.

 

"Me n' Pap have a few guests, you'd love 'em, they're great," Sans says, yawning and stretching. Had his eyes been open, he might have noticed the subtle change in Grillby's posture as he tensed, looking uncomfortable.

 

"Anyways, thanks for wakin' me up. I'm out, put it on my tab," Sans says, moving to get off of his seat.

 

"Sans, wait," Grillby says, and Sans pauses to look back.

 

"What, don't trust me to pay it off?"

 

"No, I wanted to ask about your guests. I don't suppose that they are the ones I saw with you and Papyrus this morning?"

 

"Yeah, that's them. Why?"

 

Grillby shifts, placing the glass onto the counter. "It is not, technically, any of my business, but... You are aware that I was a soldier in the monster - human war, yes?"

 

Welp. That was bad. Sans had known that but somewhere between everyone dying and living the same few days over and over he'd forgotten. If Grillby knew what a human looked like then they might be in for a lot of trouble.

 

"Yeah, what of it?" Sans asks, pretending like he has no idea where this is going.

 

"You guests may not be who they say they are. I have reason to believe that they are... humans," Grillby admits, waiting for Sans' reaction.

 

If he'd been expecting shock or even some form of denial, he receives none. Instead, Sans sighs and scratches the back of his head awkwardly.

 

"Yeah, I figured," he says. "S'not that big a deal, they're friendly. Nobody's pulled a knife at least."

 

"Sans! These are humans, they're dangerous!"

 

"C'mon Grillbz, they're not gonna stir up any trouble."

 

Grillby stares at Sans, shocked. "Even if that is true, what about the barrier? One of them is a child, their soul could be the key to releasing us from this place forever. Don't you... want that?"

 

Sans shuffles his feet uncomfortably. "Okay, look..."

 

"What about Papyrus? Don't you want him to be able to see the world?"

 

Sans looks away from the fiery bartender, but refuses to answer.

 

"And if that isn't enough motivation, do you think they'll let someone into the Guard who harbored criminals?"

 

"That's goin' too far, Grillbz. They're not criminals," Sans growls.

 

"You're going to defend them? Sans, what is going on here? These are humans!"

 

"So that's a crime now? Bein' born?"

 

"Being born human, yes!" Grillby says, form crackling and expanding as it responds to his anger.

 

"That's wrong, and you know it," Sans says, jaw set.

 

"Tell that to the king. He's already all but declared war, Sans. Are you going to go against your king?"

 

"You're bein' dramatic Grillbz," Sans says, turning to leave.

 

"You are a fool," Grillby hisses. "I can only hope that you realize this before your brother is hurt by your stupidity."

 

"I would **never** do anything that would hurt Papyrus," Sans growls, magic crackling around him. "I hope you can pull your head outta your ass before you get hurt."

 

With that, he strides out of the door and disappears. Grillby is left confused and irritated. He takes a few moment to compose himself, pulling his flames under his control. That was uncharacteristic of him, but it was an anger born of genuine worry and fear. Humans as a whole aren't to be trusted. Grillby remembers all too well the betrayals by humans that had led to the war and the entrapment of the monsters. With only a few exceptions the humans had turned against their former friends so easily. He knows, of course, that the war is long over but there are some mindsets that are hard to break. Deep down he can't help but believe that humans are the enemy. He sighs and goes back to wiping down the counter now that his best customer has vacated his seat.

 

He's just finished and is about to move around the bar to wake up the rabbit woman when the door slams open.

 

"SANS!" Papyrus shouts, striding into the bar. "You have been gone entirely too long! You should not keep our guests- Oh. My apologies, Grillby, I don't suppose that you've seen my brother? I believe that he told me he would be here, but evidently he is not, as I do not see him."

 

"Hello, Papyrus. Sans just left, he should be back at your house now," Grillby says. Odd to see Papyrus here, since he usually avoids the bar like Grillby avoids water. Also odd that the brothers hadn't run into each other on the way here, considering.

 

"Ah! That explains his absence, thank you very much!" Papyrus says, turning to exit the bar.

 

"Papyrus?" Grillby finds himself calling after a skeleton for the second time in five minutes.

 

"Yes?" Papyrus responds, turning back around.

 

"Your... guests. Sans claimed that he was already aware, but... Well, I would have thought, considering that you're aiming to be on the Royal Guard..."

 

"My apologies, but I do not follow. Are my friends some kind of criminals? If that is the case then wowie, I've done such a good job of reforming them! They are very kind now!"

 

Grillby hesitates. Either Papyrus is much better at lying than he's let on - and that is incredibly unlikely - or he has no idea what his friends are. What are you playing at, Sans? Grillby wonders.

 

"Grillby?" Papyrus asks, "Is something the matter?"

 

"No, well, yes... Papyrus, your friends, don't they seem a little bit strange to you?" Grillby asks.

 

"Oh, well, I suppose that they do, yes. They react very strangely to cold - did you know that some monsters turn blue and red when they're in snow? It is very odd! - and they seem to need a good deal of sleep - although Sans sleeps just as much I suppose - oh, and now that I think about it they occasionally disappear into the woods for a few minutes. I asked once, and the elder of the two seemed rather embarrassed! I am not entirely sure as to why. But how did you know?" Papyrus asks, head cocked to the side.

 

Grillby steels himself. Sans is going to be furious with him for this, but Papyrus knows the current Captain of the Royal Guard, and they must be informed immediately.

 

"Papyrus, your friends are humans."

 

Papyrus blinks in confusion and says, "My apologies, I fear that I did not hear you correctly."

 

"The two guests who are staying in your home are human," Grillby says as firmly as someone who is constantly whispering is capable of.

 

Papyrus gasps. "That is what I- But how are you-? Then I need to- Are you, erm, entirely certain of that?"

 

"I am. Papyrus, you must tell Captain Undyne, she needs to know."

 

Instead of the instant excitement that anyone who knows him would have expected, Papyrus falls silent, evidently deep in thought.

 

"Papyrus?" Grillby asks after a few minutes of silence.

 

"Oh! My most sincere apologies, I was quite lost in thought, but you are absolutely right!"

 

Grillby nods. Undyne would take care of the problem, just as the Captains before her had.

 

"Undyne would love to befriend the humans!" Papyrus exclaims, excited. "I shall go tell her immediately! Oh, the opportunity for my friends to become friends is just so exciting!"

 

With that, Papyrus sprints out of the bar, cackling his signature laugh. Grillby stares after him in confusion before resigning himself to never understanding the skeleton brothers.

  
  
\---------------------------------------

 

 

Undyne has just barely gotten over to the fridge to check if she has enough tomatoes for the lesson when she hears the telltale thump of Papyrus' footsteps. She walks over to the door and opens it just in time for the skeleton to barrel into her living room.

 

"UNDYNE!" Papyrus shouts, skidding to a halt in her living room. "I HAVE THE BEST OF NEWS!"

 

"What, did Asgore finally break the barrier?" Undyne asks, amused at his excitement.

 

"WELL, no, my news isn't quite that good," Papyrus admits.

 

"So what's up then? Your brother finally get some motivation into his bones?"

 

"No, but that is unimportant! Or, well, it is of great importance but my news is more so!"

 

Undyne gestures for him to continue, turning towards the stove to grab the materials for their lesson. She's pretty sure that whatever it is he has to tell her won't be that important but she's never been able to squash his enthusiasm and she isn't about to start now.

 

"I!" Papyrus declares, posing as dramatically as possible, "Have befriended a human! Two humans, as a matter of fact!"

 

Undyne spins around, mouth agape. "WHAT?!"

 

"I know, I am very much excited myself! Did you know, I was not even aware that they were humans when I met them? They have been staying with my brother and I for three days now and I had no idea! Can you believe that? But fear not, for they are very kind and we are now the best of friends! So there is no need for you to... erm... harm them?" Papyrus finishes, looking at her hopefully.

 

She stares at him a moment more before shutting her mouth firmly and disappearing into her room. A very loud couple of minutes later she reappears in her armor, helmet tucked under her arm as she heads towards the front door.

 

"Undyne? Where are you- ?" Papyrus calls, starting after her. He comes to a sudden halt as a spear materializes in the air inches from his face.

 

"I'm going to go get cooking materials," Undyne says, voice eerily calm. "Can you stay here and watch the house?"

 

"Oh, I... I absolutely can, of course but, erm, Undyne are you perhaps not being entirely truthful?" Papyrus suggests.

 

"Papyrus. I'm telling you, as your friend, to stay here. The next time I ask it'll be as the head of the Royal Guard. Don't make me do that."

 

"But I- "

 

"Papyrus," Undyne says warningly, voice still deceptively calm.

 

"Yes, Captain Undyne," Papyrus says.

 

Undyne nods and leaves the house, slamming the door shut behind her before whipping out her phone. She starts jogging as she waits for the guards to pick up.

 

"This’s Royal Guard number one, what can I do you for?"

 

"Royal guards one and two. Report to my house immediately," she snaps.

 

"Sure thing Captain, what's up?"

 

"I need to handle a problem in Snowdin. There's someone in my home, I need you to keep him there. Just guard the door, he's under orders not to attempt to leave. He's  not to be treated as a prisoner unless he tries to escape, capiche?"

 

"Yes ma'am, we'll head over immediately."

 

"Good," she says, ending the call and dialing the next number.

 

"Hello, Royal Sentries' office, Dogaressa speaking."

 

"This is Undyne. Gather the Sentries, all of them. We've got humans in the underground and I'm not gonna stop until we deliver their souls to Asgore and their dust's scattered in the snow."

 

"Yes ma'am. Where do you want us?"

 

"The exit to Snowdin."

 

Dogaressa gasps. "Oh! Are they headed to Snowdin? Shouldn't we try to stop them before they get here?"

 

"They're already in town. They've been staying with the skeletons. Prevent anyone from leaving town, I'm on my way now."

 

"Yes ma'am. We'll be prepared."

 

"I'll be there in fifteen," Undyne says.

 

She ends the call and slams her phone into her pocket. She shoves all thoughts from her mind - thoughts like Papyrus calling these humans friend when she knew he had so few, Papyrus and his brother being tried for treason, Papyrus unable to forgive her after she delivered his friend's bodies to the king - and instead focuses solely on her task. This was her duty, after all. Protecting monsterkind from the demons who threatened them all.

  
  
\---------------------------------  


 

"Do we really need to save quite this often?" you ask Frisk, amused.

 

They'd set up a save point in the skeleton brothers home, right between their television and the stairs. You're currently crouched down next to them, watching their face scrunch up in concentration as they use their magic to permanently mark your progress. Apparently it required their hands being in contact with the yellow star, because instead of signing they simply nod fiercely. You shrug and lean back, glancing over at Sans. He's a few feet away and watching the two of you with a bottle of ketchup in hand. You mimic gagging as he brings it up to take another drink. He responds with a wink and you roll your eyes.

 

Done!  Frisk signs triumphantly.

 

"Nothing's gonna go wrong, kiddo," you say, slowly clambering to your feet. "We don't need to save this often."

 

You never know when something’s gonna happen , Frisk replies solemnly.

 

"Nah, I'm psychic. So psychic, in fact, that I can already tell that Papyrus will make us spaghetti when he gets home, and while it could be worse, it will be barely edible. So before he does I'm gonna grab us some more of those delicious cinnamon bunnies to fill up on," you say, walking up the stairs and into Sans' room to grab your shoes.

 

You take longer than is entirely necessary, lazily pulling on your socks and shoes, stretching slowly before pulling on the first of several layers of jackets. It's a good while before you're back in the living room and ready to head out. Sans and Frisk are already playing some kind of card game - the kid has been bugging any and everyone to play the new game you'd shown them - and so you chuckle and wave on your way out the door instead of trying to bring either of them with you.

 

It's such a nice day, you think to yourself.

 

_Right, the birds are singing, the flowers are blooming...._

 

Very funny Chara, you think.

 

_On days like these, people like you... should be hurrying up with those cinnamon bunnies._

 

You snort and roll your eyes, turning around to lock the door behind you. Both of the skeletons thought you were being ridiculous with your insistence on the door being locked, but the habit is too deeply ingrained for you to change it now.

 

You remind Chara that they can't even eat the deliciously soft and gooey cinnamon rolls as you fumble with the keys. They scoff and tell you that they get to enjoy them twice as much, since they're connected to both you and Frisk. You finally hear the lock click  and you pull the key back out, placing it into your pocket with a jingle of metal on metal.

 

"Human," a loud and familiar voice barks from behind you.

 

You spin around to find a hell of a lot of spears aimed at your face. You'd take the time to count them all if the situation hadn't been quite so terrifying. The voice, of course, belongs to Undyne, who is scowling at you from behind the wall of glowing blue death. Standing behind and beside her are the entirety of the Snowdin Sentries, all of whom are looking uncharacteristically solemn, with weapons drawn and eyes trained on you.

 

"Oh! H-hello, Undyne," you stammer, eyes flickering between the many weapons aimed at your body.

 

"Is this one of the ones that came from the Ruins?" Undyne asks Dogamy, ignoring your greeting.

 

"Yes ma'am. They came with the child, walked out of the Ruins and have been living with the skeleton brothers for the past few days," he confirms.

 

Shit, shit, shit, they know. No use lying then, you suppose. Still, surely Undyne would listen to reason? She had been your friend after all...

 

"Hey, so I was wondering- " you begin a rather feeble attempt at trying to pull her into a conversation, anything that might make her consider sparing you. She does spare you, in a way. Mostly from having to finish that sentence as a blue spear pitches forward from it's threatening spot to pierce your chest. It goes entirely through you before lodging firmly into the doorway.

 

"Oh," you whisper, staring down at the spear.

  
Vaguely you think you can hear Sans ask what the hell that sound had been, and the hurried scrape of chairs against the floor before your knees crumple and darkness consumes you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would apologize, but I'm not entirely sure that I'd mean it.
> 
> Reader's not gonna get out of this one easily....
> 
> Edit: I'm going to die laughing, people are leaving puns in the comments, oh my goodness. I kill Reader and imply bad times are ahead and you all send me puns, the heck is wrong with you? (Please translate to: I LOVE THEM PLEASE SEND MORE) (Puns are great, the worse the better.)


	31. Ya Done Goofed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait! This chapter is roughly twice as long as usual and I've got the next sin chapter almost done if that helps?
> 
> The fight with Undyne continues.
> 
> Beta reader: nozomistarotcards (who can be found on tumblr!)
> 
> And, if you're looking to chat with me I've got a tumblr as well, you can find me there at fae-ryn!

_ "Hey, so I was wondering- " you begin a rather feeble attempt at trying to pull Undyne into a conversation, anything that might make her consider sparing you. She does spare you, in a way. Mostly from having to finish that sentence as a blue spear pitches forward from it's threatening spot to pierce your chest. It goes entirely through you before lodging firmly into the doorway.  _

__

_ "Oh," you whisper, staring down at the spear.  _

_   
Vaguely you think you can hear Sans ask what the hell that sound had been, and the hurried scrape of chairs against the floor before your knees crumple and darkness consumes you. _

 

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

 

It's not any less disorientating when you know what's coming. You blink in the blackness (again, it's the thought that counts) and raise a hand up to where your chest should be. Your hand touches something that could be you, but could also easily not be you because aside from the vague awareness that your fingertips can't go any further, you can't actually feel anything. You shudder and decide never to try that again.

 

You pause a moment to collect yourself. Being murdered with no warning by someone you consider a friend was enough of an excuse to take a short break, right? 

 

Although if you're entirely honest with yourself, that shouldn't have been surprising. Someone was bound to realize what you and Frisk are sooner or later and after that it was just a question of how long it took Undyne to reach the house. She's just doing what she thinks is best for monsterkind. Your soul is the last thing that they need to set all of the monsters free, after all.

 

Logic is great, but it doesn't prevent you from being just a bit irritated with her. Or a lot irritated. You push that aside, focusing on all of your memories from before the reset. That Undyne wasn't gone, the one who had been a steadfast, dependable and insanely fun to have around friend. She just didn't know that it was a possibility yet, and unless you get your butt back out there she never will.

 

Grabbing ahold of that thought fills you with determination and a flash of red flickers into view. The red cord stretches in front of you, and you follow it again. The pull is entirely gone, nothing attempting to guide you back. When you reach the blockade you're shocked to find that it's no longer there. You take another step forward and fall into nothingness.

  
  


You wake up back in the slightly different black nothingness where Gaster lives. Well, lives is probably the wrong word, but you're not exactly sure what the right one is. You look around, wondering where he is.

 

A deep sigh echoes throughout the space. Ah, found him.

 

"I refuse to take credit for that," you say.

 

"Then you are a fool," he says dryly, materializing in front of you.

 

"I was just supposed to know that Undyne would find out about us being here?" 

 

"Of course! You should have known that Grillby would recognize you as human and tell Papyrus. And from there drawn the obvious conclusion that he would tell Undyne. I see expecting any small amount of brainpower from you is too much," he says. "For that matter, you wasted two days of perfectly good time lying around! Just how stupid are you?"  

 

Your fingers curl up into fists as you imagine all of the nice things you could think of to do with his skull. A Halloween decoration maybe. Or a soccer ball.

 

_ And you say I'm the violent one _ , Chara’s voice says.  

 

"You have got to be kidding me," you mutter. Your bullshit meter is completely shot at this point - someone could probably tell you that Sans had taken up running marathons and Undyne was boycotting weapons and you'd just accept it. "You're here too?"

 

_ I go wherever you go. _

 

"Fan-fucking-tastic," you sigh.

 

"Are you quite done?" Gaster asks pointedly. "I didn't go to the effort of bringing you here so you could chat."

 

Ah, so it's his fault that you're here. "Yeah, can't say I missed your ugly mug either. What do you want?"

 

"You've failed. Again."

 

"No shit Sherlock. Did you drag me here just to scold me? What are you, my mother?" you say. 

 

_ Nice _ , Chara says, obviously delighted. 

 

"Wh- Excuse me? You insufferable brat, I'm trying to help!" he snarls.

 

"I'm seeing a hell of a lot less helping and a lot more snarking. Just send me back already."

 

Gaster's expression switches from anger to a rather nasty smile. "Well, I was going to tell you how to get Undyne to spare you, but seeing as you've got everything handled I'll let you figure it out. Have fun!"

 

With that he vanishes from sight, leaving you alone.

 

_ You two fight a lot _ , Chara comments.

 

Right, you forgot, you're never actually alone anymore. You're about to reply when you feel the void fading as you're pulled back.  

 

A moment later you're crouched beside Frisk and Sans, safe in the warmth of the skeleton brother's home. You breathe deeply, taking a moment to appreciate being physical again.

 

"That was... something," you say, staring down at your hands. 

 

"What happened?" Sans asks, crouching down next to you.

 

"Undyne's found out about me and Frisk. I don't know how, but it happened. She saw me as I was leaving your house, and, well," you finish, gesturing at the save point to finish the thought. 

 

That hasn't happened before , Frisk signs.  She always waits for me to show up.

 

Sans is looking at you in concern. "You alright?”

 

Something in your face must have told him the answer because he grimaces and says, “Sorry, dumb question huh?"

 

"No, I'm fine," you insist, rising to your feet. It's even almost true, although the numb feeling that has taken over your body probably doesn't fall entirely under the category of fine. "I think I'm in shock or something, it'll wear off sooner or later. More importantly, do you think we saved before or after Undyne found out?"

 

"After. Takes fifteen minutes to get here on foot, she was here less than ten after you saved," Sans says. He looks no less concerned than before, but you don't have the time to reassure him, apparently.

 

Frisk pales.  Oh no, I'm so sorry!

 

"It's not your fault Frisk, saving is important. Besides, there was no way for you to know Undyne would find out," you reassure them.

 

Less than ten minutes to figure out how not to be brutally murdered by Undyne. Fucking hell, why hadn't Gaster just told you what his plan was? For someone who desperately needs you to succeed he's sure acting like he has all of the time jumps in the world to set things straight.

 

You accept Sans' offered hand and he helps you to your feet. You breathe in deeply to steady yourself. You can do this. You have to do this.

 

"Frisk, how does this usually work?" you ask. The game might not have been entirely accurate, after all. And if it is... you don't know how you're going to manage to get Undyne to follow you to Hotland when she's already headed for the house as you stand there.

 

Usually Undyne doesn't find out about me until I've already left Snowdin. But even if she does I always make it to the border between Waterfall and Hotland before she tries to fight me.

 

"If I know Undyne she prob’ly thinks you guys are the start of some kind of invasion," Sans says grimly. 

 

"Great," you mutter. Think, goddamnit, there must be a solution. 

 

If there is one, you haven't discovered it before a hard knock on the door shocks all of you.

 

"That must be Undyne," you whisper.

 

Sans nods and squeezes your hand. "Stay here. I'll try to talk some sense into her."

 

The two of you remain by the stairs as Sans walks over to the door. He opens it to reveal Undyne standing there, expression furious.

 

"Hey, Undyne, you lookin' for Pap?" Sans asks casually. He's a good actor but Undyne is having none of it. 

 

Her angry expression doesn't falter as she takes a step into the house, forcing Sans to back up. Spears materialize around her, and deja vu hits hard. You plant yourself firmly in front of Frisk. 

 

"Humans," she declares, eyes locked onto the both of you, "You are all that stands between monsterkind and freedom. Your souls will give our King the power of a god. He'll break the barrier and take revenge on humanity for their crimes."

 

"Undyne, look, they're not so- " Sans breaks off as a spear locks onto his skull, coming within a foot from his face. Undyne doesn't even spare him a glance.

 

"For your brother's sake I'm going to assume that these two forced you to let them stay here. Don't give me cause to believe otherwise," she says coldly.

 

"Undyne this is ridiculous, you- "

 

"SHUT UP SANS!" she roars. "I'm not going to listen to bullshit! Two humans, one useful soul and one massive threat, and it's time for me to do my job!"

 

She launches her attack right then and there, making it clear that she thinks the time for words is over. Time slows to a crawl as several spears fly straight at you. You feel your body move to duck under them, but you're not entirely sure that it's you who moved it. You don't get any time to think this over as more spears fly towards you. Frisk is pulling on your hand to get you behind the couch and somewhere Sans and Undyne are shouting, oh god this is terrifying. The spears fly past you, burying themselves into the floor. Oh, that would make Papyrus throw a fit, you think.

 

A moment later he's got something much larger to be bothered by. Undyne, unable to see you but assuming correctly that you've taken cover, materializes spears in front of you and sends them flying at you. You scream as one goes through your leg, another through your torso. Frisk doesn't make a sound and you're too afraid to look over and find out why.

 

You can hear Sans shouting for the both of you as you're hauled up by one of the dog guards. They look vaguely sick, unable to meet your eyes.

 

Things are going fuzzy as you listen to them shout, and it's only as Undyne makes a sound of surprise that you realize it isn't your vision. 

 

Frisk has died. 

 

You've failed. 

 

The sentry holding you drops you in surprise as his legs start to disappear but instead of hitting the floor you're caught by a blue magic. It gently brings you into Sans' arms.

 

"I failed you," you hear him whisper.

 

"S'okay. Failed too," you say, words slurring.

 

He seems to understand you well enough despite this. "You did the best you could. Don't worry, we'll... we'll do better next time."

 

You barely nod your head. It's too much energy to talk anymore.

 

Everything around you is fading, and you're not entirely sure that it's mainly due to the reset. Your eyes are too heavy to keep open anymore, it's all too much. The last thing you feel is a kiss pressed to your forehead. 

  
  
  


\----------------------------------

 

 

Back through the death room - you're not sure what to call it but that works well enough - and a short fall later, you're in Gaster's space.

 

"Hey, Gaster? Look, I'm sorry alright? I could really use your help right about now," you call.

 

You scowl when you get no response. "Come on, seriously? How old are you?" 

 

A long time passes without any sound.

 

_ I don't think he's here. _

 

"Where else would he be?" you ask, exasperated.

 

_ Hell if I know.  _

 

".... Do you know if Frisk is alright?"

 

_ They've dealt with this before. It's not... They're not happy about it but they're going to be okay. _

 

"That isn't right. They're just a kid...."

 

_ Frisk is tough.  _ Their voice holds a touch of pride.

 

"That's true. I'm going to keep an eye out for Gaster, would you mind keeping Frisk company?"

 

_ I'm already doing that you dummy _ , they say, but they do fall silent.

 

You're not really sure how time works here - the first time you'd been here had lasted for much longer than the second - so you resign yourself to waiting. Gaster doesn't show himself, and you get the sick feeling that he fully intends to let you die until you figure out the plan to save you that he already knows. For someone who wanted you to act like you didn't have the ability to reset he's letting you rely on it a lot.

 

Some time and a lot of irritated musing later you feel the now familiar sensation of disappearing from the void.

 

You relish the feeling of a solid floor underneath you for a moment before you turn to Frisk. They're holding a hand to their head, just like you had when you'd been pierced through the chest... You shudder.

 

"Hey, Frisk, you okay?" you ask gently.

 

They start and nod up at you, smiling. You hold your arms out in an invitation and they accept, letting you hold onto them.

 

"Kiddo you're so darn brave," you say, patting their head. 

 

Thin arms slide around the both of you as Sans joins in. It's nice to be able to hold onto the two of them like this, to know that they're safe even if not for much longer. It's a rather saddening thought. A few moments later the three of you separate and stand up.

 

"Alright then, new plan, let's meet her outside where we can actually dodge," you suggest. 

 

A few moments later, the three of you are standing in the snow together. Sans looks solemn and even the usually excitable Frisk seems tense.

 

"Wow, isn't it a nice day out?" you say as cheerfully as possible. Nobody bothers to reply.

 

_ Real smooth. _

 

You ignore Chara, saying, "Come on guys, frowning about it won't make it any better. How about we plan instead?"

 

"My plan is to box Undyne in so she can't get to you," Sans says, eye lights trained on the fog concealed exit to the town.

 

"Woah woah woah, Sans, you can't seriously be considering fighting her?" you ask.

 

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do?"

 

"Just let me handle it! No one needs to get hurt," you insist.

 

"You've already died twice, you tellin' me I should sit back and let that slide?"

 

"Yes," you insist, moving in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders to force him to look at you. 

 

He sighs. "I wasn't... I'm angry with her but not dumb enough to fight her, don't worry. S'not like it would accomplish much." 

 

"You sure you mean that?"

 

"Yup. After all, snow way I could defeat her."

 

You groan and break away. "I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and say that was an unintentional pun."

 

Sans shrugs, a bit of his good humor returned. Or maybe not, it's hard to tell with him when he's so good at faking it.

 

The 'fight', when your opponents arrive, can barely be called such. Undyne refuses to listen to reason, ignoring Sans' protests and your own attempts at reasoning with her. You and Frisk do your best to dodge her spears, but it's only a short amount of time before Frisk slips and stumbles as a new volley of spears fly at both of you.

 

Even though you're aware that your shield is long gone, it only takes you a split second to make your decision. The spear pierces you instead of Frisk, going straight through your lung.

 

Sans is shouting, the dogs are barking and Frisk's trembling hands are squeezing your hand as your knees begin to give out. It isn't until the next spear is only a few inches from your eye that you notice it, and by then it's too late.

 

You feel a flash of irritation as you find yourself in the death room again. Goddamnit, why the hell wouldn't she listen to reason?

 

"Stop that," you order yourself. "Undyne's just doing her job. Now get back there and do yours."

 

The irritation fades, leaving... nothing. Apathy has made its home in your body and it isn't about to let go. The red string suddenly becomes invisible. Shit, you'd lost your determination hadn't you? 

 

You want to live, right? Surely dying would be terrible? It's not like you know what's beyond here even if you did go through the doorway. There could just be a vast field of nothingness - you could cease to exist entirely. Or maybe you'd go to hell, people are always talking about hell so it could exist, right? There are a million ways to get there so you could definitely be going there, right? Or something worse?

 

The apathy is, well, apathetic. The string doesn't reappear. 

 

"Shit. Just... Ah fucking hell, I'm screwed," you moan. This is it, just rotting here until... something happened. 

 

You feel a pain in your chest when you realize that if you're stuck here then you'll never see the sun again. You like the sun. The moon's pretty nice too. The forest around your house is gorgeous. 

 

Your house... your sister.

 

"No."

 

She would be there all  _ alone. _

 

"Ferrin..."

 

_ She'd never know what had happened to you. She'd be left alone in that huge house without anybody else there. _

 

"I can't..."

 

_ If you give up she'll be sad. Are you just going to rot here knowing that you'll be hurting her? Are you really going to give up? _

 

"I refuse."

 

_ I can't hear you! _

 

"I said, I REFUSE!" you shout, fists clenched. You're ready to fight something damn it even if you're stuck in a void with nothing but yourself. You're gonna kick Undyne's ass! ...Or, well, dodge her attacks until she's willing to give up.

 

The memory of your sister who needs you fills you with determination. The red cord is back, ready to guide you once more. 

 

"Thank you, Chara," you say, setting out. It's nice to know that they have your back.

  
  
  
\----------------------------------  
  


 

 

You'd known this fight would be hard, but even going into it assuming that you'd die a couple of times had not prepared you for the reality of it. Your optimism has faded after you're not even sure how many deaths. After the first few attempts you'd given up on trying to keep track of how many times you'd died. You're vaguely aware that you're getting better at dodging but in the face of seemingly boundless energy on Undyne's part it wasn't doing you much good.

 

So far you've only gained two victories - one, Sans hadn't insisted on helping you fight. He allowed himself to be captured each time and didn't strike at Undyne no matter what she did. At this point though, he was nearing the end of his rope. 

 

The other victory is that you'd managed to spare Frisk from having to die again. Part of that is simply because they're so much better than you at dodging - a malicious part of you reminds you that they've had plenty of chances to practice, chances where they've earned this treatment and you tell it to shut up - but you'd played no small part. You'd taken more than a few blows in their place, protecting their small body with your own. It's not much - they still have to watch you die and you're nowhere near good enough to prevent them from being injured - but it's something and they seem grateful for it. The kid hasn't had many people step up to protect them in their life, or at the very least not many humans. You're glad to take on the role even if it leaves you riddled with holes and bleeding out in the snow.

 

This is the situation as you stand in the death room after failure number hell if you know. You'd accumulated one too many scratches and run out of health points. Your soul had shattered.

 

You slog your way through to the end of the death room, body on autopilot. You're not even really aware of yourself anymore - kept going only by the knowledge that you can't stop. Even the thought of leaving Ferrin all on her own is beginning to be ineffective against your desire to fall down and never rise again.

 

Gaster isn't there, but that doesn't matter either. He's been absent this entire time, off pouting or whatever, not that you can muster up the energy to care. You wait sluggishly for the magic to take you back. A flicker of something white comes into view across the space just before you're brought back to the house.

 

You're beginning to hate the feeling of waking up again.

 

You gasp for air and your brain remembers that it needs to do this, needs your body to continue to function. You're back in the skeleton brother's house, not out fighting Undyne. You're safe. 

 

The idea of being safe makes you want to laugh. Or did you want to scream? Crying was also appealing. You've been avoiding this and suddenly your emotions are drowning you. You curl in on yourself, only vaguely aware that somewhere far away Frisk is tugging on your shirt and Sans is trying to talk to you. You can't seem to decide how you feel, but something is making itself known in your mind and you're feebly trying to push it away.

 

Fear. You're afraid. Not for your life, you're already somehow resigned to losing that, but for your sanity if you keep dying. One death was more than enough for a lifetime, and you'd died what, eight, ten times in the last hour? And every time you had to muster the determination to keep going. It was getting harder. Why were you fighting in the first place? Why did you keep having to come back? Why not just- ?

 

You thankfully never finish that thought. You're brought up out of whatever that had been by Sans. Specifically, his hand slapping you in the face.

 

"Jesus christ! Was that necessary?" you ask, rubbing your cheek in surprise. 

 

"It's been five minutes of you laughing hysterically and sobbing, so yes, very much necessary," Sans says.

 

"Oh. I'm... sorry. It's just...."

 

Sans can't quite meet your gaze as he replies. "Yeah. I get it. Dying sucks."

 

You want to tell him that's not it, but you can't quite force yourself to admit that you were beginning to think it was the coming back part that was the worst. Death sounded like a merciful end.

 

"Yes, it does. You said it's been five minutes?"

 

"Yeah. You've got four before Undyne gets here."

 

It's a struggle to get up, but you manage it shakily. Frisk looks more concerned than ever, almost like they can guess what you're holding back. You give them what barely amounts to a pathetic attempt at a smile, then turn to the door.

 

"A-alrighty then, guess we s-should get out the door!"

 

"[Your name] you don't look so hot," Sans says.

 

"W-what are y-y-you t-talking about? I-I-I-" you cut yourself off. Speaking is apparently beyond you at this point. The shaking from earlier hasn't gone away either. You force yourself forwards, ignoring Sans' protests. When you lift your hand to the doorknob, however, his white fingers block yours.

 

"I don't think you should go out there," Sans says.

 

You opt for shaking your head instead of speaking. Sans refuses to move.

 

"S-Sans I h-have to get out t-t-there or she'll do... something."

 

"Isn't there some way I can help?" Sans asks, looking at Frisk desperately.

 

Frisk gestures helplessly.  I don't know! I'm sure we can figure something out?

 

"They keep dying! Kid, this is even worse than you, at least you had a break because Undyne stayed still! They've died eleven times in a row!" You're unnerved by Sans raising his voice. You can count the number of times you've heard him raise his voice on one hand. Maybe you look worse than you think you do.

 

His hands are off of the door though, so you reach out and open it. The scene outside is the same one you've seen eleven - had it really been that many? - times in a row. Undisturbed snow on the ground, peaceful citizens doing peaceful things, the perfect picture of a nice, quiet town. But you remember how it can be - how it has been, so many times you'd lost count until Sans had told you - broken tree, screaming citizens, and blood. So much blood. The snow black and brown and red, so much red, and blue from the reflected glow of the spears that had gone right through you. The thought fills you with terror and you finally admit to yourself that you can't do this again. The thought of dying for the twelfth time is too much. You wrap your arms around yourself, a sound that is half whine and half sob emerging from your lips. 

 

Sans is instantly in front of you and you reach out to him. He lets you cling onto him as he holds you tightly.

 

"It's gonna be okay," he whispers. "I'll find a way to make it okay."

 

You know he can't do anything, but you let the words comfort you. The familiar feeling of holding onto him is doing a lot of good for your nerves.

 

"So. I guess that confirms Sans and Papyrus are traitors. Guards, separate them." Oh god no, not that voice.

 

The two of you are torn apart, and you can see that Sans is being restrained by one of the dogs from the bar. He can still fight, of course, but there's nothing he can do to help you. Undyne stands beside the other guards, spears already out and ready.

 

"Don't harm him. We'll deal with the traitors later. For now, focus on capturing the humans," Undyne commands. 

 

You know you should say something, anything, but her voice brings on too many emotions for you to be able to do anything. You'd heard this voice shouting criticism at anime characters. It had given encouragement to Papyrus, cooking advice to you, been welcome in your home. But it had also cackled over your broken body, taunted you as you'd bled out, followed you into the void that wasn't death but wasn't life either.

 

Undyne grabs you and throws you onto the ground. You decide to stay there. Or really, your body decides for you, because you're shaking like a leaf.

 

"Pathetic. This is one of the fearsome beasts that defeated the ancient monster army? They must have been a bunch of weaklings! I haven't even done anything and it's already broken!"

 

"Undyne! You don't have to do this!" Sans shouts. He's struggling against the dog holding him, but there isn't much he can do. You're going to die. Agai _ n. And again. And again. _

 

"Shut the fuck up, Sans. I can't believe you didn't report this to me immediately. Actually, what's worse is that I can. Papyrus had to do your job for you! Now you get to watch  _ me _ do what  _ you _ should have done."

 

She makes no move towards you, however, and it's only when the armored dog leaves the skeleton's house that you understand why. He's carrying Frisk, and throws them down near you. 

 

"Sans. Pay attention. This is how you react to a human," Undyne says. 

 

You can clearly see the glowing blue spears behind her, and you close your eyes, knowing what comes next. Sans is shouting something, but it doesn't really matter, does it? You wait for the spears to impale you once more.

 

But they don't. 

 

The spears instead thud down next to you, and you realize what Undyne has done. 

 

"Frisk!" You can't tell if you or Sans shouts it first but you're screaming and the little child next to you is full of holes. They're just barely alive, still breathing but close to stopping. The spears disappear and you grab the tiny body lying in the snow. It's the first time you've seen them die with your own eyes and it's terrible, their fingertips twitching as the life drains out of them and panic that isn't entirely your rises in your mind. --

 

\--  _ A scene not unlike this one, a body only slightly larger than the one presently in your arms, their face pale and lifeless, eyes staring up at nothing, jaw slack. The swelling had gone away quickly once their heart had stopped but the blisters and the open festering sores were still there, marring the youthful face. Someone had once told you that the dead looked like they were sleeping. Now you wish you could tell them how wrong they'd been. Asriel's friend, his sibling, they'd never looked like this, and it's his fault that they're dead. The guilt and sorrow consumes him and he howls, voice terrifying him because it's his but it's not his and oh gods- _

 

_ "Chara," he whispers, holding their body tightly, "Chara I think we messed up." _ \--

  
  


\-- "Frisk, Frisk oh my god I'm so sorry," you say, feeling tears flowing down your face. What the hell kind of adult can't protect a little kid?

 

"That is how you handle a threat to all of monsterkind. And this," she grabs you and yanks you around so that you're staring at one of her spears dead on, "Is how you eliminate a problem."

 

Undyne brings the spear down, and you're back in the void. This time, you don't have to reach for your determination. It's already there, boiling hot and ready for retribution.

 

What the bloody fucking hell kind of person murders a child?

 

You stalk towards the hold and fall into Gaster's space. Strangely enough he's standing there waiting for you.

 

"I may have- " he begins.

 

"Shut up," you growl, cutting him off. 

 

His apologetic expression shifts to one that is more familiar, full of irritation. "I was going to offer my apologies and my assistance but I see that they are unnecessary."

 

"Yup," you respond, tapping your foot.  _ Hurry up damn it I've waited long enough. _

 

Gaster goes to reply before pausing. "Something about you is... different. What have you done?"

 

"Nothing," you snap. "I'm just done toying with this bitch. One less fish hanging around, who's going to notice?"

 

"You cannot possibly be serious," he says, eye sockets narrowed.

 

"I am, now get out of my face before I decide to have you join her."

 

"You cannot kill Unyne," Gaster commands.

 

"Oh-ho, I can't? And who's gonna stop me?"

 

"Wh- I - You will stop yourself! What is this ridiculously childish behavior?! You cannot possibly be serious about this!"

 

You laugh. "Oh hell yes I am. She's getting what's coming to her and then some."

 

"This is not the correct solution! [Your name], reconsider!" he says, desperation coloring his tone.

 

"Hmmm," you day, tapping on your chin thoughtfully. The void you're standing in is beginning to fade, much to your satisfaction.  _ So close! _ "Nah. I'm in the mood for some sushi."

 

"No! This is wrong, please, go find Papyrus, he's locked in Undyne's house, he can help you! Killing Undyne will solve- !" Gaster's pleas cut off mid-sentence, but in truth they were falling on deaf ears the entire time. Your mi _ nd is made up. After all, isn't revenge a dish best served on ice? _

 

You're back, standing in exactly the same spot in the house. Frisk is beside you, and Sans is standing there, anger etched into every feature.  _ Good, maybe he'll actually be of some assistance this time. _ You straighten up and head towards your destination. There's no more shaking, no more fear. Just a raging pool of white hot anger hidden below something cold and hard.

 

You walk into the kitchen and start opening drawers. Somew _ here in here is what you need.  _

 

"Hey, [your name], uh, I don't think food is the answer here," Sans says. "Undyne isn't going to be stopped by indigestion."

 

"That's fine. I'm not planning to stop her with indigestion," you reply. You've found what you're looking for.

 

You turn around, knife in hand, and Sans flinches backwards. Frisk stares at you in horror from their save point.

 

"No, no, no, that isn't the answer either," Sans whispers, staring at the knife.

 

"I'm going to give that fucking bitch a piece of my mind," you growl. "I'm going to cut her into a million fucking pieces and shove them into the nearest dumpster because that's where pieces of fucking shit belong."

 

"You can't do this," Sans says. He finally looks you in the face, and the fear in his gaze makes you pause. Or it would have, if you weren't already on your way out the door.

 

"Stop!" Sans shouts from behind you, but you won't. Undyne has pushed you to the limit and god damn you if anyone thinks they can stop you from taking the revenge you deserve.

 

You walk out into the snow, and stand there, waiting. Frisk is out of the house and tugging on you. You push them aside wordlessly. No mo _ re distractions, you think. You're so ready to be done with this. _

 

Undyne and her posse emerge from the mist and seem surprised to see you there.  _ Good. _

 

"So, you're going to fight me, human? Just what I'd expect from something so vicious," she says. 

  
Honestly, she could turn any action into an indication of how terrible you were, couldn't she? You ignore her taunting and ready the knife. It feels right in your hands, like it's been there a million times before. Were you smiling? It kind of feels like it, which is strange, considering how stressed you'd been before. But then again, thi _ s would be fun. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your puns have filled me with determination, I love all of you oh my goodness. (I laughed, I really did, I love puns and bad jokes you all have no idea. The worse they are the more I love them.)
> 
> Here's the death count, in case you've lost count/are too lazy (like I would be) to go back and check:
> 
> One death to Sans, as of the end of this chapter Undyne has killed you twelve times and this is your thirteenth try fighting her. So you've used up 13 of your 37 deaths. (What do you mean, thirteen is an unlucky number? Evil plans? I've got no idea what you're talking about.)
> 
> Anyways, thank you all for being so patient about waiting, and I hope that you enjoyed the chapter! Or well, as much as you can enjoy a rather ominous feeling of something about to go horribly wrong. I have just started my next college semester so updates will be somewhat slowed but never stopped. (You can always come scream at me on tumblr at fae-ryn if you'd like, haha.)


	32. I'd Like To Thank The Academy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ready to Fight?

Undyne waves off the other guards and sets herself opposite of you. It's a scene you've seen a million times over.

 

"You know, I thought maybe humans could be cool once," she begins.  _ Gods, not this stupid spiel again. _

 

"Newsflash, bitch. Anime is fake ass shit for kids, and you're about to eat dirt," you say. Wait, why did you say that? You like  _ \- hate -  _  anime.

 

"AARGH!" Undyne shouts, "Shows what you know! Anime is for all ages!"

 

She hurdles spears at you, bu _ t they're nothing you haven't dodged before. _ More fly past you as you charge forward, knife in hand. You notice the glowing dots in the snow just in time and fling yourself to one side as yet more spears pierce the air where you'd been. One surprises you, striking at your leg, but you just cackle as your hp is reduced by a measly one point. Your  _ magic is more useful that you'd thought. _

 

"You're so boring," you call out in a sing-song voice. "Spears, spears and still more spears. Trying to compensate for your lack of brains with more braun?"

 

"STOP RUNNING AND START FIGHTING!" Undyne shouts, and the ground all around you is glowing. You laugh at her as you dodge all of them. Just a little closer and s _ he'd be dead, dead dead! _ Your smile gets even wider at the thought.  _ You'd be more powerful when she is dead. You can take on bigger prizes. Nobody would be able to stand against you and then you could get your revenge. _

 

Wait, dead? You've never wanted Undyne dead! You're certainly angry - and maybe not entirely opposed to beating her within an inch of her life - but you don't want to murder anyone! And what 'bigger prizes'?

 

It only takes a moment for the puzzle pieces to start coming together but it's more than long enough for you to feel sick as you realize you aren't the one in control of your body. Someone else is dodging these spears. Someone else is holding this knife. They're just using your body to do it.

 

"Oh, you finally figured it out? Too late, but I was meaning to ask - would you like sushi for dinner?" Chara asks you, using your mouth as they're using your body, laughing at your attempts to escape their grip. 

 

Your body lunges forward and Undyne only barely manages to dodge. 'You' flip around and another spear flies past you. 'You' bring the knife down on Undyne again, and she dodges. 

 

"He he he, you've gotten better!" Your mouth is moving, but the words, the tone are so foreign that it might as well not be your voice.

 

"What the fuck are you- " Undyne, busy paying attention to 'your' words, doesn't notice until it's too late that she's been backed into a corner. 'You' bring the knife up to her neck. 'You' can see glowing blue out of the corner of 'your' eye, but that's not important. 'You' grab her arm and throw her down. Her head hits the side of the building and the spears blink out of existence.

 

"How the tables turn! To think, just a minute ago I was the one on the floor!"

 

"Just finish this," Undyne spits, clearly dazed. "I may have failed, but someone else will get you."

 

"What, the dogs? Please, I've killed them more times than I can count. Now, the smiley trash bag, he's a different story, but he wouldn't do anything to harm this body. He loooves them, can you believe it? It's disgusting really," Chara replies. 

 

You want so badly to stop your body from moving, stop Chara from moving your mouth and using your voice, but you can't. You can feel tears making their way down your face, and the demon inside of you is enjoying your pain. 

 

Undyne is trying to collect herself but it's going to take her longer than it will take Chara to stab her. But their monologue gives you an idea. Maybe, if you could win her a few more moments...

 

_ Chara, why are you doing this? _ you think as forcefully as you can. 

 

"Why? Oh, come on, [your name], I thought you were smarter than that!" they say, eyes no longer focused on Undyne, gloating. Bingo.

 

_ I... I just don't understand _ , you whimper, pushing down your rising hope and determination so they won't notice it. If you make your way out of this you deserve an Oscar.

 

"Wow, you're so dumb! Alright, let me explain it to you then - I'm done with being pushed around! You just waltz around acting like you're doing the right thing, pretending to be better than me. You let Frisk die," they suddenly snarl, "And so I'm going to do the responsible thing here."

 

_ There's nothing responsible about murder! _

 

"You're weak. What the hell is a LV one going to accomplish? Nothing. You can't protect anything if you're weak. The weak die like cattle, stupid and pathetic and unable to do anything because they didn't expect anybody would want to hurt a family of healers. Pathetic," they say, their voice breaking.

 

You're startled by their sudden vulnerability and decide to take advantage. They're a kid, surely they'd listen?

 

_ Chara I - _

 

Evidently you're not the only one who decides to use the situation to their advantage. A spear drives into your torso and is followed only a moment later by Undyne's metal clad feet driving into your stomach. Your body flies backwards, air driven out of your lungs. Chara drags you to your feet even as your body heaves in failed attempts to get oxygen, all traces of sentimentality gone. You're spared none of the pain but you finally let your feelings of triumph surface. 

 

_ Suck on that! _

 

Chara isn't given the chance to reply as more spears fly towards you. Unable to move in time they raise their arms to block the incoming wave. Three points gone, and you're down to two now. Having your soul shatter is the least comfortable way to die that you've found so far, but if it means you get to spare Undyne you'll take it.

 

They are no longer focused on you, instead moving your body to dodge spears coming from all directions, fleeing from Undyne to gain a moment to rally themselves. You take advantage of their mental lapse to start struggling in earnest. For a moment your right leg is under your control again and you force it to stand still, turning Chara’s graceful turn into a stumbling near fall before they wretch it back from you. It's just long enough for Undyne to get close and land a blow on your back. One point left.

 

_ Give me my body back! _ you roar, fighting them tooth and nail. Your victories are minor but it distracts them from Undyne so it's good enough.

 

"STOP IT! You wanted to give up!" they shriek, barely ducking under a spear. "You don't want to live! Just give me the body and die then!"

 

_ Fuck you! It's mine damn it, give it back! _

 

"NO NO NO NO! THIS ISN'T HOW THIS WORKS!" they shout, angry.

 

Undyne seems bothered by their shouting, distracted and confused. 

 

"UNDYNE! PLEASE, STOP!" a high and altogether too familiar voice shouts from the entrance to Snowdin.

 

Undyne spins to look at the voice, mouth gaping open and Chara sees their opportunity. They're already shouting their victory as they launch themselves towards Undyne, arm outstretched to deliver the final blow. You wail in defeat, reduced to a specter watching your body being used to murder your friend.

 

Your body gasps as a shock runs through it, grip on the knife weakening. Suddenly Chara’s attention is distracted, their confusion clear. You surge forward, shoving them out as hard as you can. For a glorious moment your body is your own, your cut up, tired, weak, amazing body. 

 

Your body's movement is already fully committed to the action and you can only watch in horror as the blade cuts into the side of Undyne's neck. It's deep, but not deep enough to kill her as you pull back, killing it's momentum. She turns to face you, furious, as the dropped knife clatters against her armor before falling into the snow.

 

You're in danger but you can't bring yourself to move, staring down at your hands, clenching and unclenching your fingers. Your body is yours. Totally and completely yours. And it hadn't been enough to fix your mistake.

 

The spear through your chest really isn't much of a shock. You look up at Undyne, who already has another spear hurling at you. Behind her you can hear shouting, a red and white figure charging towards you with two grey shapes chasing after it. You wonder where Sans and Frisk are as the spears connect, leaving you full of holes before everything turns black.

 

You trudge back through the death room mechanically. Chara’s somewhere there in the back of your mind seething but you ignore them. You'd failed, and your friend had suffered for it. Hell, Papyrus - at least you assume that had been Papyrus - had actually seen you die. Way to go you. Even knowing that the situation could have ended so much worse doesn't give you much comfort because the situation wouldn't have happened in the first place if you weren't such a damn idiot.

 

Slow clapping greets you when you reach Gaster's space.

 

"Congratulations! You have managed to disappoint me even further," he says, words thick with irritation.

 

You flinch away, shoulders hunching. "I... I didn't mean to..."

 

"What, do you think that's going to make up for what you've done? You are a dismal failure! You were tricked by a child, how stupid are you?"

 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, but he's not saying anything that you aren't already accusing yourself of.

 

"Oh, really? Well, that just makes up for everything, doesn't it? I'm sure Sans will accept your flimsy apology when you let Chara take over next time and you actually kill someone, won't he? He'll pat you on the head and say it's alright?" Gaster asks, sarcasm clear in his tone.

 

You bite your lip, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

 

"Pathetic! Truly, utterly pathetic! You have failed!"

 

You can't take it any more. First dying, then shock setting in while you tried to bottle everything up, being possessed by Chara, it's just too much. You whimper and the floodgates fall, tears streaming down your face as you let out a strangled sob. 

 

"I k-know!" you shout, "I failed, I'm a failure, I'm so goddamn stupid for trying to help I've only made everything worse!"

 

"I - well, yes you are, but- "

 

"I told Sans and Frisk I'd make this right and look at what I did! I'm such an idiot, I can't save anybody."

 

"That isn't- "

 

"Stupid, stupid, god why am I so stupid? I should... I should just stay here! I don't have the right to go back and everyone's going to hate me and Undyne was right, humans are evil and I should just let her kill me, I deserve it," you choke out, self-hatred rising like bile in your throat.

 

Gaster doesn't reply, and you continue crying silently. Who the hell cares? There's nobody here to see you but Gaster and he obviously doesn't care.

 

You startle as you feel an arm slide around your shoulder. Gaster's come up next to you, face very pointedly not looking at yours.

 

"I.... may have been too harsh," he says. 

 

You shake your head. "No, you're right, I'm a failure and- "

 

"Blaming yourself for the past will not fix it," Gaster interrupts. "Believe me. I have tried. Chara is very, very practiced in getting what they want. This was, in a way, inevitable."

 

"I'm supposed to be better than this. I screwed up royally."

 

"Perhaps. But you have many opportunities to fix it."

 

"You're being awfully nice."

 

You can feel him shrug against you. "I am trying a new tactic. Negative reinforcement has proven ineffective, I believe positive reinforcement may cause better results. If I may, I advise that you take a moment to breathe deeply and calm down. You do not have much longer before you must return."

 

You're not entirely sure that you believe him, but he does have a point. You take a shuddering breath and hold it for a moment. Exhale, fill your lungs up to capacity, hold it, exhale again. You've got this. Maybe.

 

"Papyrus. You think we can fix this if I find Papyrus?" you ask.

 

"There is a greater percentage chance of success if you do, yes. He will be in Undyne's home, under guard."

 

"Do you think they'll trust me after that?" 

 

"They care for you deeply. Do not worry."

  
You nod as you feel yourself fading again. "I'll do better this time. And... thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope nobody minds me using an American reference, I think that the Oscars are shown in other countries but I may be wrong? If you don't know it's basically just an award given out to good actors, which is why Reader's making a joke about that. (I'm not very funny, I know.)
> 
> 1) Yes, Chara was distracted for a reason. No, said reason is not clear yet.  
> 2) Chara might have let slip something important about themselves. Maybe.  
> 3) Yes, Gaster has done a bit of a 180 here. He's acting inconsistently and the explanation does go further than just the fact that you've got many sets of memories/experiences/personalities clashing with one another. But no, the explanation hasn't been given just yet.  
> 4) Sans and Frisk are distracted from helping for another reason, they're not just standing there with popcorn, I swear.  
> 5) Papyrus is a precious cinnamon roll and convinced the guards to let him out, he didn't beat them up. 
> 
> Anyways, school is being a time muncher but I have high hopes that I'll be able to finish the next chapter much sooner than this one. No promises, but high hopes.
> 
> (If anyone's curious: I couldn't decide what to do in this chapter in regards to killing or not killing Undyne, so I flipped a coin. Heads, kill Undyne, tails let her live. It landed on heads, and that was the moment where I realized I couldn't kill her haha. There are other reasons for choosing not to kill her but my sentimentality isn't exactly a small factor. I hope no one minds!)


	33. Thorny Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't suppose you were curious about why Chara was distracted?
> 
> EDIT: I forgot to credit my amazing beta reader, nozomistarotcards for making these chapters possible. (And a big thanks to her for giving me the courage to actually use Averia in this story!)
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at fae-ryn

Ferrin is a woman with a mission. A mission to drag her sibling home where she would keep them under lock and key for the rest of their life.

 

Of course she has to actually find you first, and searching for you mostly consists of her wandering around a mountain for hours on end, but compared to sitting at home doing nothing it feels like a huge leap in the right direction.

 

It’s many hours later that she makes her way up yet another slope into a clearing. There's a vague sense of something watching her, but then again the entire mountain feels creepy. The whole ‘Climb Mt. Ebbot and die’ thing probably isn't helping either.

 

She moves forward and immediately notices the rope hanging from a nearby tree, leading into a wide hole in the ground. Abe had already told her that no one has gone this far up the mountain yet to search. He’d said it was because superstition held them back, but she has a nagging suspicion it has more to do with them believing that you were already… She shakes her head sharply to force herself to stop thinking along those lines and instead studies the pit. Not many people ever attempted to climb Mt. Ebbot, and those that did normally made a lot of empty boasts before they left the nearby town. The last group to brave the cursed mountain had been over a year ago, and this rope certainly hasn't been around for that long. Could the rope be yours? But if it is, why would you need it?

 

“Oookay, weird,” she mutters, edging closer.

 

“Human,” a dry, rattling voice says from behind her, causing her to jump.

 

“Wh-who’s there?” Ferrin asks, spinning around. A dark shadow is moving through the trees. It's too thin to be human, it's head strangely misshapen.

 

“My name is unimportant. Why would you climb the cursed mountain?”

 

“I'm… looking for someone,” she replies, edging away from the figure.

 

They continue forward, stepping into the light. In her fear, Ferrin isn't sure what she's looking at - it looks like a skeleton, but that's not possible… right?

 

“You're rather unlucky,” it says. “One more day, and you probably would have survived.”

 

It suddenly dashes forward, a sword appearing in its clawed hands. Ferrin yips but can't move out of the way in time, nearly frozen in fear. At the last possible moment, as the blade is finishing it's arc into Ferrin's neck, the skeleton stumbles. In a split second, the weapon disappears, the two of them collide, and Ferrin takes a step back into oblivion. She only has a moment to register what's going on before both of them tumble into the abyss.

 

There's an instant of weightlessness, like a rollercoaster just before it tips over the edge to send its passengers hurling down. Then it's gone, the ground approaching frightfully fast as Ferrin grabs for something, anything that can save her, but her hands catch on nothing but air. The ground gets closer, closer, only an inch away from her now - she collides, but not nearly as hard as she should have. It knocks the breath out of her and her ribs and forearms are probably in for some intense bruising, but by some miracle she isn't dead.

 

“Ow ow ow,” Ferrin hisses between clenched teeth as she pushes herself up.

 

The cavern is large, still echoing with the sound of - screaming? Oh geez, she must have been screaming without realizing it - and as she looks around she notices she's landed on a bed of flowers. Well, that's an improvement on what she'd expected. Although why the hell there would be flowers in a cave is beyond her.

 

The sound of something hard shifting against stone brings her attention to the skeleton. A closer look tells her that whatever it is, it certainly isn't human. Aside from the claws she'd noticed earlier, it's gaping jaw reveals pointed teeth and there's definitely something that could be horns on top of its head. It looks positively demonic, not like anything she's ever seen before. It had apparently taken no more damage than she, although it wasn't making any move to rise either. Ferrin scrambles away from it just in case.

 

"Who are you? Where are we? Why did you try to kill me?" Ferrin asks.

 

When it doesn't say anything she retreats even further until her back is against the wall. It's breathing is heavy and strained, rattling it's bones with every heave. It sounds…. well, if she's honest it sounds sick. And it isn't moving, either. Just… laying there.

 

She waits for it to move, expecting it to rise and kill her at any moment. As the minutes tick by, however, her fear fades into - not quite concern, but maybe a bit more curiosity than is healthy.

 

“Aren't you going to kill me?”

 

“Definitely,” it replies, tone sharp and sarcastic. “I'm going to lay here and talk you to death.”

 

“Wow, rude much?”

 

“You're human, I'm a monster, I think that gives me enough cause to be a bit of an ass.”

 

“Why the hell would that give you the right to do anything?”

 

“Human monster war? Killing most of us as we ran away? Locking us up underground? Any of that ring a bell?”

 

“Uh, no, to be honest. I remember learning about a lot of wars in history but that one doesn't really strike a bell.”

 

“Great. Attempted genocide of my entire species and you lot can't even be bothered to remember it,” it growls.

 

Ferrin falls silent, thinking about her current situation. The rope is dangling near where the skeleton is, but it really doesn't seem to be able to move. It's occasionally making pained noises, so perhaps it's in worse shape than its earlier attack had indicated. She gets to her feet shakily, edging around the prone figure. She grabs ahold of the rope, yanking on it experimentally. It seems sturdy enough…

 

“I wouldn't bother if I were you,” the skeleton says.

 

She jumps in surprise and looks down. It's turned its head to look at her, but hasn't moved aside from that. Holy hell it really does have horns. Is it some kind of demon?

 

“Why not?”

 

“Take a moment to think about it. Why put a bunch of monsters into a pit in the ground and forget to lock the door behind them?”

 

“Oh. But wait, there's nothing up there to stop me from just getting back out?”

 

“Magical barrier. Completely invisible, one way ticket in and no way out. Well, not one for you at least.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

A rather nasty grin splits its face as it says, “You'd need seven human souls to break that barrier.”

 

“What are you talking about? Souls? Why?”

 

“Because the human who made that barrier was one sick mother fucker. Hated monsters, probably hated humans.”

 

“But why do you need souls to break the barrier?”

 

“No idea. A dead woman's the only one who could answer that.”

 

Ferrin bites her lip and stares up at the sunlight. Sure, she could take the monster’s word for it… But if she does, she's sure to spend the rest of her time down here - however short it may be, considering… - wondering whether or not she'd made the right choice. Instead she grabs ahold of the rope and begins to hoist herself up. The monster below makes an irritated noise but otherwise does nothing as Ferrin continues upwards. Luckily, she'd stayed somewhat in shape since moving out here to the middle of nowhere, she thinks as she climbs. She was part of the way up the rope and ready to call bullshit on the whole invisible barrier thing when her fingers jam up against…... an invisible…. barrier… thing.

 

Apparently her loud cursing causes no small amount of amusement to the skeleton, who laughs.

 

“Fuck off!” Ferrin shouts, but she receives only a renewal in the cackling instead.

 

“Goddamn it,” she says, pushing against what looks to be blank space but is instead some kind of unyielding surface.

 

She sighs and descends the rope, ending up right where she'd begun. The skeleton’s laughter had at some point turned into barely suppressed whimpers of pain. It almost made her feel better, but she did hate to think that anything was in pain. Even asshole skeletons who'd probably tried to murder her.

 

“You don't look so good,” she comments as it slowly stifles the sounds. It really hasn't moved this entire time, so she decides that it's safe enough to take a seat near it. Not within arms reach, of course.

 

“Side effect… of dying,” it replies, eyes shut.

 

“Uh…. Aren't you already, you know…?”

 

“Dead?” it asks, tone amused.

 

“Yeah, that.”

 

“Do I look dead to you?”

 

“Well, yeah. You look like a skeleton after all. Maybe not a human one, but a skeleton. Are you some kind of demon?”

 

“As interesting as that would be, no. I'm a skeleton monster.”

 

“Ohh," she says. She has absolutely no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but the skeleton seems to think that's enough of an explanation so she can't ask it. "I'm Ferrin, by the way.”

 

It opens one eye and gazes at her. It seems like it's trying to school it's expression into anger, but the corners of its… uh.. lips? rise anyway.

 

“Ten minutes ago I tried to kill you, and now you think introductions are in order?”

 

Ferrin shrugs and waits for a reply.

 

A few moments later, the skeleton chuckles and says, “You're an interesting one. I'm Averia, Captain…. Well, probably former now. Former Captain of the Royal Guard.”

 

“I'd say it was nice to meet you but honestly things have kinda sucked since we met. Also like ninety-nine percent sure you tried to murder me. So it's been interesting to meet you," Ferrin offers.

 

".... Likewise."

 

Her tone makes it clear that Averia isn't being entirely sincere, but Ferrin means what she said. She loves fantasy stories, the more out there the better. Magic, dragons, enchanted castles, fairy gardens, elves, any and all sorts of fantasy were her favorite topics. She'd prefer her fantasy creatures a bit less on the killer side but that didn't make the situation any less interesting. She's also halfway convinced she really did die when she fell, and she's now in some kind of weird fantasy version of the afterlife.

 

The two of them sit in silence for a moment before Averia says, “Why the hell did you climb a cursed mountain anyways?”

 

“I'm looking for my sibling. They came up here a few days ago…. Wait. You didn't happen to….?”

 

“I haven't met any humans recently. Last one was a while back, maybe a year or so. So no, I didn't kill them.”

 

“Thank goodness,” Ferrin sighs in relief.

 

“Doesn't mean they're still alive.”

 

“No, but at least I know that they were alive when they got down here. But if it's your job to guard the entrance how'd they get past?”

 

“It happens when you don't get a break from your job for a hundred years or so.”

 

“Woah woah woah. A hundred years? How old are you?”

 

“That estimate's probably undershot by a mile, I have no idea how long I've been up there. Spent a lot of that time asleep to conserve energy."

 

"Damn," Ferrin whistles.

 

"Not that impressive. Monsters can get to be pretty old."

 

"Speaking of monsters.... you said that there were some locked up down here, right?"

 

"Yeah, what of it?"

 

"So... Are they all as murder-y as you are?"

 

"They're all a hell of a lot stronger than me, if that's what you're getting at. Again, dying. Not really at my best here."

 

Ferrin trails off, staring away from Averia and biting her lip. If she can't get out, then neither could you. If you couldn't get out, you had probably kept going through the dark archway at the end of the room. You'd always been the brave one, taking on playground bullies and defending her from snide comments. She, on the other hand, was more than happy to be rescued. And Abe knows where she is. Surely if she waited he'd find her eventually.

 

Ferrin is still debating over what to do when she suddenly hears a voice coming from close by. It's humming a cheerful tune, but she frantically looks around for someplace to hide anyways. There's nothing there, of course, so she gets up and does her best to look menacing. A slight scoffing sound from the skeleton tells her that she's probably not achieving her goal.

 

A figure dressed in violet comes to the doorway. It's some kind of goat like being, much taller than Ferrin and probably a lot stronger too. It starts when it sees her, looking at her in surprise.

 

"Why, hello! Greetings, young human. Did you fall?"

 

"Y-yeah, I did," Ferrin replies, surprised by its kindness.

 

"There is no need to be afraid, my dear. I am Toriel, keeper of the Ruins. And you are?"

 

"Ferrin."

 

"It is my pleasure to meet you, Ferrin. Oh, did someone else fall with you?" She asks, apparently just having noticed the mostly concealed form of Averia.

 

"Yes, she's hurt. She said she's a monster, like you? Or, well, I don't mean to offend you but you are a monster, right?"

 

Toriel frowns, looking down at the still concealed figure. "I am, yes, but there are no longer any monsters aboveground."

 

Averia makes no move to introduce herself, so after a moment Ferrin says, “She was a bit more chatty before you showed up, sorry about that. Her name is Averia.”

 

“My most sincere apologies, I must have misheard you, surely you did not say Averia? Maybe you have mispronounced your friend's name?” Toriel suggests, smile strained.

 

“Pretty sure it was Averia,” Ferrin says. “Why? It's not that strange a name, is it?”

 

Toriel's eyes narrow and she says, “I am afraid that is impossible. Human, where did you really learn that name?”

 

Ferrin throws her hands up in a gesture of peace. Maybe the monster - Toriel, maybe Toriel wasn't as nice as she seemed? “Woah, okay, look I'm not trying to pull anything here maybe that isn't her name but that's what she said it is, I'm really sorry if that's an offensive word or something in your language?”

 

The sound of what must be bone against the stone floor comes from beside her and Ferrin looks over to find Averia attempting to push herself up. The skeleton is failing miserably, but Ferrin backs away a step just in case. A couple minutes of talking had done little to assuage her (very much earned) fear of the skeleton.

 

Toriel gasps when Averia manages to move herself upwards enough to be seen through the flowers. The monster rushes forward, causing Ferrin to squeak in fear and scitter backwards until she can feel the cool cavern wall pressing up against her back.

 

Toriel doesn't even seem to register her retreat as she drops to her knees beside Averia, who has given up on rising and is laying flat once more.

 

“Averia, it really is you,” Toriel breathes, hands reaching out to touch the skeleton before hesitating.

 

“In… the flesh….. Or, well…. not so…. flesh,” Averia says, hissing suppressed whimpers between words.

 

“Oh my gods, Averia... There is so much to tell you,” Toriel says, concern clear in her features, “But I fear that you do not look well.”

 

“Been better,” Averia agrees.

 

“Did the human who fell with you do this?” Toriel asks, eyes darting up to rest on Ferrin, who shakes her head vehemently.

 

“Not her fault…. ‘M not quite that…. pathetic yet,” Averia replies.

 

Ferrin shakily releases the breath she'd been holding. Toriel looks at her apologetically, face softening.

 

“I am very sorry, human - you said your name is Ferrin? - my most sincere apologies Ferrin. I am perhaps a little on edge today. There have been many strange happenings…” Toriel says, trailing off.

 

“Oh, no, it's alright,” Ferrin assures her. “Averia said something about you guys being down here because of a human so I mean I can see why you might not trust me.”

 

“I still offer my apologies, such an accusation was very unkind on my part.”

 

“It's alright. But, um, if you don't mind me asking, have you met another human in the past few days? We're siblings, they look a bit like me?” Ferrin asks, hope and fear rising in her throat and nearly strangling her as she looks at Toriel hopefully.

 

“Oh my… Yes, my dear, your sibling has been through here recently. The last that I heard from them they were safe and sound, and that was only yesterday night,” Toriel says.

 

Ferrin's legs tremble and nearly give out as intense relief washes over her. “Thank god,” she whispers, wiping tears from her cheeks. “Thank god…”

 

A hiss of pain draws Toriel's attention back to Averia, who had apparently tried to move again.

 

“You are too badly hurt to be moving!” Toriel scolds.

 

“I'm fine,” Averia growls.

 

Ferrin sneaks towards the cavern exit as the two of them bicker - well, as Averia makes irritated noises and Toriel tries to insist on helping her. The new monster seems kind enough, but that could easily be a ruse. Ferrin has all of the information that she needs, and it's time to beat a hasty retreat before anyone gets any ideas about baking her into a pie. Both of the monsters continue arguing as she slips out of the first room and into a dark hallway. She allows herself a small measure of relief as she makes it through the rather grand looking doorway without either of them noticing her departure.

 

But someone else does.

  


Flowey is bored. He lives in a near constant state of boredom, really. Prior to Frisk's fall he'd already run through all of the possible scenarios. He'd befriended everyone, betrayed everyone, killed everyone, all through the power of the saves and resets. He'd done it so many times he'd started to forget what he had and hadn't done, until it had all lost its appeal. Frisk had added a certain element of entertainment for a while, but they too had exhausted every possible ending.

 

So he's been bored… At least until you'd fallen. You're a new factor in the same old tired story, and he can't wait to see what changes you’ll cause. Unfortunately for him, you and Frisk have been dragging your heels in Snowdin, one of few places in the underground he avoids at all costs. The cold hurts his roots and if he stays for too long he can actually freeze to death, since his body produces almost no heat. He’d be right back once it reset, but he’d miss out on the entertainment. That, and the smiley trash bag is around constantly, and previous timelines have taught Flowey plenty about not messing with that bag of bones. He wants to be entertained, not annoyed.

 

He’s aware that the timeline keeps jumping back by twenty or so minutes, and assumes you’re fighting the dog sentries or someone similar. Honestly, you must be pretty bad at this, they’re not even that difficult to fight. He’d cared only enough to check that you weren’t already fighting Undyne, popping up briefly near the cavern between Waterfall and Hotland where the fight began. Seeing nothing, he’d returned to the Ruins to wait.

 

This brings him back full circle, bored out of his mind and hanging out in his usual place. That is, until the sound of a panicked voice alerts him to his new playthings.

 

He disappears underground and pops up in the hallway just out of sight. From here he hears the entire conversation, just barely hiding in time as Toriel ambles down the hallway humming a cheerful song under her breath.

 

From this vantage point, he gathers that a human female and some kind of monster have fallen underground, apparently by accident. Interesting, but only because it hasn't happened before. He assumes it must have something to do with you, since the only change until now to this timeline has been your appearance. The rest of the conversation isn't particularly interesting to him and he's beginning to lost interest when he catches an important bit of information.

 

“But, um, if you don't mind me asking, have you met another human in the past few days? We're siblings, they look a bit like me?”

 

“Oh my… Yes, my dear, your sibling has been through here recently. The last…”

 

The rest of Toriel's sentence goes unheard as Flowey disappears underground. He reappears many rooms later, startling a Whimsun into fleeing as he starts cackling. Oh, no. No, this is just too good! He can't possibly be expected to pass up an opportunity like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As eager as I'm sure you all are for the end of the fight with Undyne, this needed some explaining first. Yes, Chara was distracted by Ferrin and Averia landing on their grave - based on what they say in-game about being woken up by Frisk when they fall, I'm assuming that they have some kind of connection to it. 
> 
> I am so incredibly sorry for not replying to comments! I will be replying to those as soon as I can (I'm hoping to be able to tonight!) but school is munching down on my free time. (Technically I need to be finishing my math homework right now, since it's due online in an hour... Ah well.)
> 
> There will be more information on Averia (it is a font name I promise haha) soonish, although the next chapter will skip back to Reader instead of sticking with Ferrin. There will also be more information available on Flowey's plan(s) soonish.


	34. ACT -> TALK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader follows Gaster's suggestion, Undyne and Papyrus scream a lot, and some dogs get to chew on bones. Oh, and Ferrin learns how things work around here.
> 
> Beta read by [nozomistarotcards, who can be found on tumblr!](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> If you want to come scream at me, check out [fae-ryn, also on tumblr.](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/) (I hope these links work, if not please scream at me about that instead!

You're pretty sure you've never taken an appropriate amount of time to appreciate how great your body is. It's amazing, really, a series of complex systems that all miraculously work together to keep you alive. Your lungs would function even if you didn't tell them what to do. Your fingers move along with the little tiny electric pulses that your brain sends to them. Your organs work in synchronization with each other, your blood flows through your veins…

 

Well, there’s more than a kernel of truth in the saying ‘You don't know what you have until you've lost it.’

 

_Waxing poetic about yourself. Wow, narcissistic much?_

 

And with that, you're back to your current troubles. You sigh and - after taking just an instant longer to appreciate the feeling - open your eyes.

 

Sans and Frisk are staring at you in abject horror, as though they're expecting you to pull out a knife and stab them right there. Sans’ eye is glowing, which you do your best not to flinch at the sight of, while Frisk studies your face. Of course, all things considered, you suppose their fear is warranted. You hold up your hands in a gesture of peace.

 

“No knife this time, I swear,” you say.

 

“Right. How’re we supposed to know you ain't Chara?” Sans asks, tense.

 

“I didn't bolt for the knives immediately upon waking up?” you suggest.

 

“Uh huh. Doesn't prove anything, brat knows I wouldn't let them do that,” Sans says.

 

 _I'd love to see you try to stop me_ , Chara snarls.

 

Frisk tugs on his sleeve.  I think they're telling the truth. Chara seems angry, and they didn't kill Undyne even though they could have. 

 

You shudder, remembering just how close you'd been to murder. Murder in self-defense (and you're still pissed with her, honestly) but murder nonetheless.

 

Sans studies you for a few tense moments before sighing and releasing his magic. “Alright kid, I’ll buy what you’re selling. [Your name]... you alright?”

 

“Honest answer? No, but not like I can stop here. Gaster’s got a plan but I’m gonna need your help Sans.”

 

“Alright buddy, what’ve you got up your sleeve?”

 

“Undyne isn’t gonna listen to us, we already know that. So we need to get somebody she will listen to.”

 

“I don't think Asgore would show up to stop her, if you know what I mean,” Sans says.

 

“You're probably right, but we're not going to get Asgore. We need to bring Papyrus here to help us.”

 

“I dunno, Pap might be able to convince her but….”

 

“I think it’s our best shot. Gaster says he’s locked up in Undyne’s house. Can you please teleport us there Sans?”

 

Sans looks you straight in the eye, looking for any signs that you’re still possessed. Of course, he’s not going to put his precious brother in danger if you’re still out of control.

 

“Please, Sans?” you ask.

 

He sighs, seeming to come to a reluctant decision. “Alright. Let’s get goin’, we don’t have a lotta time,” he says, extending a hand for you to grab. You do, gratefully.

 

“Sorry kid, I can’t get four people at once. Ya mind stayin’ here?” Sans asks Frisk.

 

I’ll be fine. Just hurry, okay? 

 

_Oh brilliant, leave the child to fend for themselves. You're such a good role model!_

 

“We’ll be back before you know it,” you promise.

 

“Ya ready?” he asks you.

 

“Let’s get going.”

 

The world blinks out and you find yourself standing inside of Undyne's house.

 

“I really do think that Undyne would benefit from my expertise on the humans!”

 

“Dude, I told you we like, totally can't let you out. Undyne would, like, kill us, man!”

 

“Undyne would never! She is a very kind person when you get to know her!”

 

Papyrus is arguing with one of his guards, door cracked just enough that he can lean out and speak with them. He doesn't seem to have noticed your sudden appearance.

 

“Any ideas on how to get him over here without letting them know?” you whisper to Sans.

 

He nods and holds a finger to his teeth. He motions for you to follow him and the two of you stealthily creep towards Papyrus’ turned back. When he's within arms’ reach Sans quickly grabs ahold of his brother's shoulder and the three of you are drawn in by Sans’ magic.

 

“And furthermore, I- What? Sans? Humans?” Papyrus exclaims, staring at the three of you.

 

“Hey Pap,” Sans says casually.

 

“Sans! I told you to warn me before you use one of your shortcuts! They are incredibly uncomfortable and the longer way around is always more scenic!” Papyrus says, frowning down at his brother.

 

“Bro I don't think the guards were gonna let you take the scenic route,” Sans says.

 

“Well… perhaps you are correct,” Papyrus admits. His eye sockets go wide and he spins to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “HUMAN! I HAD FORGOTTEN! UNDYNE IS ON HER WAY HERE AND WHILE YOU DO NOT KNOW WHO SHE IS YOU MUST PREPARE TO DEPART IMMEDIATELY! SHE IS INCREDIBLY STRONG AND DOES NOT HAVE AN OVERALL GOOD OPINION OF YOU! THAT IS NOT YOUR FAULT, OF COURSE, YOU ARE VERY PLEASANT TO BE AROUND!”

 

“Papyrus! Please, could you be a bit quieter?” you ask, wincing at his volume.

 

“My most sincere apologies, human, but now is not the time, we must depart immediately!” Papyrus says, heaving you up and over his shoulder.

 

You yelp in surprise and scramble for something to cling onto as Frisk receives the same treatment, although they just giggle and accept it. Sans is smiling in grim amusement as Papyrus sprints towards the door with both of you in tow.

 

“Papyrus! Where the heck are we going?” you shout, bouncing somewhat painfully against his armor clad shoulder.

 

“I am not entirely sure! Somewhere safe!” Papyrus replies, bounding out of the door and into the snow.

 

“We really don't have anywhere safe for ‘em,” Sans points out from ahead of you. Good, he can't be too exhausted if he's still using shortcuts so liberally.

 

“You may be correct… And Undyne will be here shortly…” Papyrus agrees, pausing to think.

 

“Maybe we could- “ you begin.

 

“I, the great Papyrus, have come up with the perfect plan! Brother, you will protect the humans from any stray weapons and I will reason with Undyne!” Papyrus declares, placing you onto the snow beside Sans and putting Frisk into your arms. He then spins to stride away and stand a few yards in front of you, facing the border between Snowdin and Waterfall with his arms crossed.

 

You stare after the tall skeleton before glancing at Sans, who is smiling after him affectionately.

 

“Isn't my bro the coolest?”

 

“I - Not the time! He's not - what about - Undyne could just decide to arrest him, that would crush him!” you say frantically, trying to keep your voice quiet enough that Papyrus won't be able to hear.

 

“Nah, Pap’s stronger than you'd think. Just let him handle it, okay? It'll be snow problem for him,” he says with a wink.

 

“I’ve heard that same pun at least three other times today,” you groan. “But alright, yeah, might as well let Papyrus handle this one… Not like we were doing any good.”

 

“Don't worry, I'm sure Undyne’ll chill out once she sees him.”

 

Eighth time you've used that one , Frisk reminds him.

 

“You're all a buncha critics,” Sans snickers. “My jokes are _on point_ , alright?”

 

Bad Sans!  Frisk signs emphatically.

 

“You all love my puns, no need to pretend ya don't,” he says with a wink. “Seriously though, Pap's got this, don't worry. Like I said, super cool dude.”

 

“He is pretty cool,” you say, trying not to laugh when Sans’ face lights up at the praise directed at his brother.

 

The coolest! 

 

“Definitely,” you say, smiling at Frisk. “You want down so you can dodge if you need to kiddo?”

 

But you're warm , Frisk objects, snuggling closer to you.

 

“You were just inside, you're warm enough,” you chuckle, but you don't put them down. Even if holding the kid would probably put the both of you in more danger it still feels good to know that they're safe in your arms.

 

A few tense moments later Undyne and the dogs walk through the mist once again. Your gut twists in a mixture of fear, worry and guilt.

 

“You really think Pap can do this?” you whisper as Undyne freezes, staring at the four of you.

 

“I hope so,” Sans replies, tense.

 

“Undyne! Hello! I am here to inform you that you are making a grave mistake!” Papyrus says cheerfully.

 

“Papyrus. What the FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Undyne shouts.

 

“Oh, I, erm, well, you see- “

 

“Papyrus, for the love of Asgore, I told you to stay back there! Do you even realize that this means you can’t EVER be on the royal guard?” Undyne roars.

 

“But Undyne, I need you to listen to- “

 

“NO, GODS DAMN IT, I’M NOT GOING TO LISTEN! THEY’RE HUMANS, ALRIGHT? THEY’RE THE ENEMY! WE. ARE. AT. WAR!”

 

“Undyne, please….”

 

“THOSE THINGS ARE THE ONLY ONES BETWEEN US AND FREEDOM, PAPYRUS! DON’T YOU WANT TO LEAVE THIS PLACE? DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THAT YOU THOUGHT YOUR BROTHER MIGHT BE ABLE TO CHEER UP IF HE GOT TO SEE THE SUN?”

 

“......”

 

“The problem is that you’re too NAIVE, Papyrus! They aren’t your friends, they’re all that’s standing between monsters and getting their freedom! You’ve been tricked, they just wanted your protection. They’re dangerous, they could be the first wave of an invading army! Come on, grab your brother and get over here and we’ll just forget that you tried to do this, alright? You won’t even have to do anything, I promise I’ll handle it. All you have to do- “

 

“I refuse,” Papyrus says. It’s the first time you’ve heard him truly lower his voice, and if you're not much mistaken, it’s shaking.

 

“Come on Papyrus! Just do the right thing here and nobody will get hurt,” Undyne pleads.

 

“THAT IS A LIE! MY FRIENDS WILL BE HURT AND I WILL NOT PERMIT IT!” Papyrus shouts, and it’s another first because you’ve never heard him angry before, and it’s a startling reminder that if he wanted to this skeleton could easily wreck havoc. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “If the right thing is murdering people who have done me no wrong then I refuse.”

 

“Are you telling me you won’t move aside?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And what about your brother, huh? What about the kids, WHO DESERVE TO GET TO SEE THE SUN, HUH? WHAT ABOUT THEM, PAPYRUS?”

 

“NO ONE SHOULD BENEFIT FROM THE MURDER OF INNOCENTS! AND… AND THIS IS THE HAPPIEST I HAVE SEEN MY BROTHER IN WEEKS! HE IS WILLING TO GO AND DO THINGS, HE IS SMILING AND HE ACTUALLY MEANS IT - THERE MUST BE ANOTHER WAY, UNDYNE!”

 

“DON’T YOU THINK I WOULD BE TAKING IT IF THERE WAS?” Undyne shouts.

 

“Do you not see, Undyne? No one wants to fight! We do not need to solve this problem with violence!” Papyrus pleads.

 

“THERE ARE NO OTHER WAYS, PAPYRUS! Asgore needs that kid’s soul and I can’t let a DANGEROUS adult human wander around unchecked, alright? I’m giving you ONE LAST CHANCE - move it.”

 

“I will not move, and I refuse to fight you,” Papyrus declares.

 

“Alright, let’s see if I can get somebody reasonable to listen - HEY, BONES FOR BRAINS! PAPYRUS’ BROTHER!”

 

“Wassup boss?” Sans replies. Oh god, these two were getting into so much trouble for you and the kid’s sake…

 

“You really think this’s a good idea? Papyrus trusts people too easily, but you’ve gotta be able to see that there’s nothing good about these humans, right?” she spits out the word human like it’s a filthy word.

 

“I dunno ‘bout that, I’d say they’ve got a lotta redeeming qualities. Sure, they’re human, but I’m with Paps on this one - they’re good people. Sorry boss, but ya aren’t gonna get me to betray my friends either. Heck, who knows, you might even like ‘em. The taller one likes anime.”

 

“I-I’ve watched Mew Mew Kissy Cutie,” you offer quickly. “I’ve even got seasons one through five on my laptop!”

 

“There’s a season FIVE?” Undyne shouts in astonishment. “I’ve only watched through season two!”

 

“Oh yeah, season two is kinda meh but it really picks up in season three! It turns out that the main enemy from season one left behind a protegee who causes a whole bunch of trouble, it’s so good! You’d love it,” you say, hope flaring in your chest. Could this actually work?

 

Undyne opens her mouth to respond and then snaps it shut with an audible click. “WE ARE SO NOT HERE TO DISCUSS ANIME! I’M GOING TO TEAR YOU APART AND DELIVER YOU TO ASGORE, DAMN IT!”

 

She punctuates her words with a barrage of spears sent flying your way, all of which strike a wall of bone and quiver to a halt.

 

“Undyne, please, please, I do not want to do this…” Papyrus pleads.

 

Undyne ignores his words and charges forward anyways. She summons a spear to her hands and swings at Papyrus. The loud whack of spear striking bone echoes throughout the field as the dog sentries approach the three of you.

 

“Sans….” Dogaressa pleads, eyes wide and sorrowful.

 

“We don’t want to fight,” Dogamy says. Behind him Greater and Lesser dog whine in agreement.

 

“Come on man, we’ve hung out at Grillby’s so many times,” Doggo says.

 

“Sorry guys. I like ya, but I’m not gonna let ya hurt ‘em. Back off,” Sans replies, stepping in front of you. He’s wanted to do this all along, and you’re so tired of fighting that you let him.

 

“Then you’re not leaving us much of a choice buddy,” Doggo says.

 

The dogs pull out their weapons in time to frantically block an incoming swarm of bones. Lesser dog is immediately distracted, chasing after one of the bones that land near the treeline so he can chew on it. The other dogs are kept busy dodging and blocking, cursing Sans loudly. It takes you a while to notice that despite the constant barrage, none of them are getting hurt. Looks like Sans knows how to pull his punches.

 

In the meantime Papyrus and Undyne have reached an impasse. From watching them spar in your backyard you know how good Undyne is. She isn't even demonstrating half of her ability, her blows lacking in power, leaving huge openings, using only a single spear instead of the hoard she’s capable of. She has no interest in fighting Papyrus, and it shows.

 

Papyrus isn’t much better. He’s flat out refusing to fight, solely on the defensive. Undyne’s blatantly obvious openings aren’t taken advantage of, his own cloud of bones never appears, and his fighting lacks... well, enthusiasm. He doesn’t want to be doing this any more than she does.

 

Pretty quickly the dog sentires are tired and panting, tongues lolling out of their mouths. The bone attacks are wearing them out, even if they aren’t doing any actual damage. When a flurry of bone knocks Doggo off of his feet, Sans’ attacks stop. The Sentries hold back, breathing hard, eyeing Sans as though waiting for some kind of trick.

 

“Sans, I do not understand,” Dogaressa confesses, panting. “Why would you allow something so dangerous to be near your brother?”

 

“Dogaressa. D’you really think that I’d let anythin’ hurt Pap?” Sans asks.

 

“I would not have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes!” she exclaims.

 

“These guys aren’t gonna hurt Pap. They’re not gonna hurt anybody. I meant it, they’re good people,” he says.

 

“.....”

 

“I know they're humans, but these guys’re gonna help. We’re gonna break the barrier and gets us all outta here. I promise you, that’s my goal and theirs too.”

 

“Sans, I…. Do you really believe in them so much?”

 

“I’ve staked Pap’s life on it. What d’ya think?”

 

“You love your brother more than anything… Alright. I’ll get Undyne to pull back but Sans, swear to me that you’ll keep an eye on both of them even if you think it’s not necessary.”

 

“I promise. I’ll keep an eye socket on ‘em,” Sans says.

 

“If you do not keep your promise…. If they harm even one hair on a Temmie’s head…. I will have your dust scattered throughout the underground before you can say Asgore,” Dogaressa threatens, face dark.

 

“Do I look like the kinda guy who breaks promises?”

 

“.... I most certainly hope not. I can only pray that my belief in you is not misplaced,” Dogaressa says. “Captain Undyne! We aren’t getting anywhere! May I humbly suggest that we pull back and send for King Asgore? He should be informed of the humans.”

 

“We can’t do that, Dogaressa! What if they hurt somebody in the meantime?” Undyne says, halting her fight to talk.

 

“May I speak freely ma’am? The humans have not hurt anyone while they have been here. I do not believe that they will do so,” Dogaressa replies.

 

“WHAT? HAVE YOU GONE INSANE? Are you sympathizing with the enemy?” Undyne asks.

 

“Not at all Captain!” Dogamy interjects. “My wife is simply saying that the humans will not be without supervision, and that the king has a right to know.”

 

“Yeah Cap, let’s let them go for now. We can catch them whenever we want, we don't have to do it now,” Doggo agrees.

 

Undyne hesitates, glaring at you and Frisk before glancing at Papyrus. She's no fool, she already knows that the battles are going nowhere. The skeleton brothers are refusing to really battle, and nobody else really has their hearts set on it either. She shouts and drives her spear deep into the snow in irritation.

 

“Alright FINE. Since everybody here is a DAMN WIMP we're gonna call this off and go get Asgore. Don't think this means we're sparing you, humans! The king is WAY stronger than I am, he’ll knock your ass to the ground faster than you can beg for mercy. Sentries, follow me!” she shouts, jogging into the mist.

 

“Don't make me regret this,” Dogaressa says as she and the other dogs jog after their Captain.

 

Well. You're alive, Frisk is unhurt, Sans is fine, Papyrus is officially the best friend you've ever had, and you've gained at least a few death free hours. The realization that you're actually safe now makes your head spin.

 

“Well, that's done,” Sans says, grinning. Drops of sweat are scattered across his forehead from the exertion (how you aren't entirely sure). “Told ya it'd be snow problem.”

 

“Fourth times the charm?” you ask, laughing in giddy relief.

 

Nuh uh, still terrible , Frisk signs, face bright with joy.

 

“You are telling me! You do not know what it was like, my dear friends, living with the same terrible puns day after day!” Papyrus groans as he approaches your group.

 

“Papyrus… I’m so sorry, this is all our fault….” you say, ashamed of yourself. It isn’t Frisk’s fault - this has never happened to Frisk. It’s entirely your fault, if you hadn’t wanted to play the hero this would never have happened!

 

“Nonsense, [your name]! Undyne will come around, just you wait and see! In the meantime however, do you mind if we go inside? I may be very great but I am still in need of a good meal after all of that work!” Papyrus says cheerfully. He's obviously forcing himself to be his usual enthusiastic self, but everyone's putting up a fabricated facade of normalcy at the moment.

 

Your breather was hard-earned, however, and you resolve to make the best of it.

 

“Spaghetti sounds fantastic,” you agree, heading inside. Everyone's fine, and that's what matters. Sure, you've got Asgore looming over your head but that’s nothing new, it’s been like that since you'd fallen. Things will work out - they have to.

  
  
  
\-----------------------------  
  
  
  
  


Ferrin peers at the candy bowl suspiciously.

 

“Please only take one… Hmmm. I wonder if there’s some kinda curse if I take more than one?” she muses aloud. That definitely sounds like a fairy tale thing to do. Or, of course, the candies could be cursed to begin with, and even taking one could trigger a magical penalty!

 

She giggles at the idea and grabs a candy anyways, popping it into her mouth. It's soft and chewy, with a sweet, slightly tart flavor. She can't quite place it, but it's distinctly non-licorice. After a moment of consideration she decides to stick with just taking one. The possibility of weird curses aside it did seem rude to take more than her share.

 

As she turns she catches a glimpse of yellow out of the corner of her eye, but decides to ignore it. The same thing has happened multiple times already and she's decided that the fall must have knocked her brain around and messed with her eyes. Alternatively fairies were playing tricks on her. Either way she's never managed to catch a glimpse of the culprit, and so she's given up.

 

Using the stick she’d picked up along the way she avoids the worst of the damage from the leaf puzzles, although the first one leaves her with a slowly bruising leg. The stick had proven invaluable earlier as well, helping her navigate her way through a spike filled maze. At a fork in the road she flips a coin and follows its’ instructions, heading forward. The next room is nothing like the others, ending in an abrupt cliff overhanging a large cavern.

 

The view before her is astounding. Tall buildings stretch throughout the space, part of the city obviously abandoned and crumbling, but a small portion to the east still well lit and whole.

 

“Woah,” she whispers, staring out at the crumbling city. It's not really that large - the opposite wall of the cavern is easily within sight and she imagines it would take no longer than an hour to make her way across the entirety of the space. What makes it amazing is the height of the buildings. Adding multiple levels to structures takes advanced knowledge in math, physics, and other things besides. That they were capable of building homes with upwards of ten levels tells her that these monsters are an advanced species. She just hopes they don't have the same shoot first and ask questions later policy that some humans do.

 

The longer she watches, the more she notices and the more she is convinced that you might be down here. Maybe you were hiding from the monsters in the broken down parts of the city? But then again, Toriel had said she'd spoken to you…

 

“Well, that's a problem…” Ferrin mutters, eyeing the flight of stairs leading into the city.

 

She's wavering, trying to pick one path or the other when a strange frog hops up the steps in front of her. It freezes when it sees her, staring.

 

“Hello?” Ferrin says, hoping it isn't planning to attack her.

 

The tight feeling of fear in her chest swells for a moment before a glowing green heart is pulled out.

 

“What the fu- “

 

She yips and scrambles away as a swarm of white bugs fly towards her from the direction of the frog monster. A few of their wings hit her, slicing through her skin. One nicks the heart and even though she receives no physical wound it feels like the wing cut her far more deeply than the others.

 

“Stop, please! I don't want to fight you!” Ferrin shouts, backing up.

 

Just as the first few bugs of the next swarm appear, thorny vines shoot out of the ground and grab the frog. In one swift movement the monster is tossed back down the stairs. Ferrin tries to back up further and finds her foot dangling over nothing but air for the second time that day. She screws her eyes shut and screams, expecting to fall any second. Instead, something thin but sturdy wraps itself around her wrist and pulls her back. She collapses in an untidy heap onto the floor.

 

“Well golly!” a cheerful voice says, “It's a good thing I was nearby, huh?”

 

Ferrin opens her eyes tentatively to find herself facing a flower. A single golden flower… with a face. It looks friendly enough, smiling at her cheerfully.

 

“Oh, I… Did you just? I mean, thank you,” Ferrin stammers, pushing herself to her feet.

“No problem! I was happy to help! You seem a little bit lost,” he says, smiling up at her.

 

“Wow, is it that obvious? Yeah, I'm a bit turned around. Thanks for helping me out. My name is Ferrin, what's yours?”

 

“Flowey. Flowey the flower! So what brings you here?”

 

“I'm looking for my sibling, they fell down here a few days ago and no one's heard from them since. I don't suppose that you've seen them? They're about this tall, they look a bit like me?”

 

“No, I'm awfully sorry to say I haven't seen your sibling,” Flowey says sadly. Oh geez, he looks like he's going to cry.

 

“Nah, that's fine! Don't worry about it. I'm sure I'll find them sooner or later. You don’t need to be so sad!

 

He sniffles, still staring dejectedly at the ground. After a moment’s pause, Ferrin approaches the flower and kneels down beside him.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, don’t be so sad. I’m sure I’ll be able to find them. Oh, and by the way, you were totally awesome earlier! You beat that frog thing no sweat, and then saved me too, thank you so much!”

 

The flower perks up at this, looking up at her shyly. “Do.. Do you really mean that? You think I’m awesome?”

 

“Of course I do!” Ferrin replies, grinning brightly.  

 

Flowey glances at her, smiling. “Well golly, thank you!”

 

“Actually, now that I think about it… Do you have any ideas what that frog was doing? I mean, I get that it was some kind of magic, but why would he attack me?”

 

The flower’s expression becomes curious. “Do you mean you don’t know how things work around here?”

 

“Well, I guess not,” Ferrin admits ruefully.

 

“I’ll just have to teach you then”!’ he says brightly. “But wait, if you don’t understand how these things work… are you not from around here?”

 

“Well, no, I’m not. I fell down from up above.”

 

Flowey gasps. “You mean you’re a human? Oh, I knew it!”

 

“Ah! I… Yeah I am,” Ferrin admits. “Is that a problem?”

 

“Of course not! I mean, not to me at least, I love humans, I even joined the local human lovers club! But you absolutely can’t tell anybody else, okay? They’re not as…. friendly as I am. What the Froggit from before was doing was fighting you. He must have known that you don’t belong here…”

 

“Those weird bugs were his way of fighting me?”

 

“Oh, absolutely!” Small, spinning green ovals appear in a circle around Flowey. “White attacks are just your basic, everyday attack. There are three other colors - orange, blue and green. Blue attacks will go right through you if you stand still, orange attacks will do the same if you’re moving, and green attacks heal you. Here, let me show you!”

 

Ferrin flinches as the green pellets fly towards her to seep into her skin. The cuts seal themselves as she watches in awe, and she’s left feeling healthy and energized. Laughing, she draws Flowey to her chest in a hug.

 

“Thank you! I feel so amazing right now!”

 

“You’re more than welcome!” he says, voice muffled.

 

She pulls back and gives him her brightest grin. “Man, I’m so glad that I met you, Flowey. You’re so helpful.”

 

“Awh shucks, it’s nothing, really,” Flowey responds shyly.

 

Ferrin could have spent all day talking with the flower, but she is more worried for you than ever, and the only person who seemed to know you was the goat monster from earlier. She’s not sure that she can trust Toriel, but here’s someone who can give her the answer.

 

“Flowey, you seem trustworthy, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

 

“Not at all, we're friends after all, right?”

 

Friends with a talking flower - she can't wait until you hear this one. “Of course we are! But I wanted to ask, you've met Toriel, right? Really tall goat lady, she has these little horns and a purple dress on?”

 

“We’ve met before, yeah,” Flowey says, a strange expression flickering across his face for just a moment before it disappears. “Why?”

 

“Do you think I can trust her? She said she'd met my sibling and I think if I ask her she can lead me to them… But she was so friendly with that skeleton…”

 

“Well… she’s in a bit of a… feud with her husband. So she hates me, because I’m friends with her husband. He’s a good man, really, they just don’t see eye-to-eye. But as long as you don’t let her know that we’re friends you should be fine! She’s a nice enough lady.”

 

“That’s downright rude, you’re so nice, I’m sorry that she doesn’t like you… Well, I’ll be sure not to mention you to her just in case. I’m so sorry Flowey but I really have to go, my sibling is somewhere out there and I need to find them. Do you have a phone number or something? I’d hate to lose contact with my new friend.”

 

He shakes his head sadly. “No, sorry. They don’t really make phones I can use, hehehe. But it’s okay! I’m always travelling around the underground, so we’ll meet up sooner or later, I promise!”

 

‘Well, if you’re sure… It was great talking to you Flowey, and thank you for all of your help! See you later!” she calls, already heading out.

 

“It was nice talking to you too! Good luck! I’ll see you later!”

  
  
  
\---------------------------------------

 

 

He can’t help it - the second Ferrin is out of earshot he cackles, tears falling from his eyes as he laughs.

 

“She….. she’s so… STUPID!” he howls in mirth, petals quivering.

 

This is just like the first time with Papyrus! He was going to have so, so much fun! All he’d had to do was bring her to the right place at the right time - disarm a few puzzles, make sure a few monsters were scared out of the way, lead a very confused Froggit to where Ferrin was. A brilliant plan, even for him! It was even worth acting pathetic and telling those stupid lies - although he had technically joined the human lover’s club those two imbeciles had made many, many timelines ago. He’d acted and she’d lapped it up, genuinely grateful for his advice even as he was planning to use her for his own ends!

 

This game is going to be so entertaining!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flowey's got plans. 
> 
> I, too, have plans.
> 
> In fact, we might even have the same plans, who would've thunk it?
> 
> Also, would anybody be interested in having their OC in an upcoming Undertale fic ( [Information on the fic can be found here](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/post/139529434951/undertale-prequel) ) I'm planning? I've got a few characters who are pretty much defined by 'I need someone to do this but they're currently a grey faceless blob without a name', and I thought some people might be interested in having a character they made in the story. If not of course I can come up with them on my own, but if anybody is interested, please let me know in the comments!


	35. Secrets, Souls, And (A Lack Of) Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever wonder why more monsters didn't have human souls?
> 
> Also, for the record: I do know that there isn't any yeast in pie crust. I bake a lot, it's an intentional mistake.
> 
> Beta Reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Tumblr: [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

Ferrin takes a moment to steady herself before knocking on the heavy door in front of her. She'd followed Flowey's advice (only ending up at a house by sheer luck, considering that she'd forgotten to actually ask for directions) and is now standing in front of a large brick home. She just hopes she's found the right one, although if she is at the wrong house she supposes she can just ask for directions.

A voice that, despite being muffled, is clearly Toriel's says, “I will be with you in a moment!” and Ferrin relaxes. She's found the right house after all.

A few moments later the door swings open to reveal Toriel, already in the midst of speaking. Ferrin catches a whiff of something with sugar and cinnamon flavors and tries not to visibly drool.

“I am so very sorry but I cannot- Oh! Greetings young human! I was very worried for you when I saw that you had left us, I hope I did not do anything to offend you? If such is the case I offer my most heartfelt apologies.”

“No, I'm the one who should be apologizing,” Ferrin says sheepishly. “I thought you might be like Averia and want to, you know, get rid of me.”

What might have been an irritated look flashes across Toriel's face before it changes to an apologetic smile. “I do not, and I will not allow her to harm you either.”

“Um, I don't know if I should ask or what but is she alright? She seemed to be in pretty bad shape.”

Now that is definitely irritation. Toriel's smile becomes forced as she says, “Averia is… stubborn. She has persevered all of these years, I believe that she will continue to do so.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” Ferrin replies, and she is. Being in pain is awful, and she'd never been hurt badly enough to say that she'd been dying (well, perhaps as a joke). She doesn't even want to imagine what that must feel like.

“Yes… Child, would it be too much to ask that you join me inside? I should not be far from my patient and I think you would benefit from something to eat,” Toriel offers, stepping aside.

“I would love to, thank you,” Ferrin says, stepping into a warm, cozy room. The house is well furnished and comfortable looking. Toriel leads her into the living room, where she offers her the recliner and moves to take one of the wooden chairs. After a brief (but very polite) argument, Toriel succeeds in taking the less comfortable of the two chairs.

“Am I correct in assuming that you are here to ask about your sibling?” Toriel asks, settling herself into her seat.

“Are you sure I can't convince you to switch chairs with me?” Ferrin tries one last time.

“I am afraid I must insist.”

“Well, alright. Yes, please, I would love any information you can give me.”

“Let me see… Well, they fell down here with a young child by the name of Frisk. I do not think they knew them prior to this event?”

“Not unless they made a habit of befriending kids without telling me.”

“The two of them made their way to my home, and ah… passed through on their way to the rest of the underground. Since then they have called me every night, so I assure you that they are safe and sound. A friend of mine has promised me that he will keep them safe, so you do not need to worry for their safety.”

Ferrin lets the wave of relief wash over her before turning her attention to her suspicions. Toriel seems nice enough, but she doesn’t actually have a reason to trust her. (Although anybody who can cook something that smells like that whatever it is in the kitchen has definitely earned brownie points in her book.) The odd part of her brain that is telling her that Toriel is entirely trustworthy is only making her more suspicious. Monster mind control could be a thing after all! And, more than that, she needs to see you alive and well before she’ll really be ready to accept it.

“So there’s a way out of here then?” Ferrin asks.

Toriel hesitates, conflicted. “I… Yes child, there is. However I must warn you that not everyone in the underground will be as kind to a human as I am. Although your sibling is doing remarkably well, considering that they are a magic user…”

“Uh, sorry Toriel but there’s no way we’re talking about the same person,” Ferrin says, laughing. “My sib loves writing about magical adventures, sure, but actually using magic? There’s just no way.”

“I am afraid that they are a magic user, specifically a defensive one. It was not so rare when we were aboveground. Has that changed in the years since?”

“Well I mean there were a ton of witch hunts and all that but everybody knows that was just a bunch of bull. Or… I mean that’s what I thought…. There are seriously people who can use magic? Wait, can you use magic? I thought Averia used it before, with the sword thing…” If the frog and Flowey could use magic, then surely Toriel can too, Ferrin reasons. Still, maybe if she plays naive the monster will tell her more about the situation.

“Yes my dear, I can,” Toriel says, summoning a small ball of fire into the palm of her hand. “All monsters can use magic to some degree. We are made of it after all! As for humans, it was not an entirely uncommon talent when we were aboveground, but if your kind took to killing your magic users… Well, perhaps it is rarer these days. Your sibling is a magic user, I assure you.”

Well, that was news to her. Ferrin wonders uneasily if you’ve got any other secrets you’re keeping from her.

“Ferrin my dear, are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry Toriel, it’s just a lot to take in,” Ferrin admits.

“It is always quite a shock to discover an unknown side of a family member,” Toriel says sympathetically. “Do you have any other questions for me?”

Only about a million. She’d love details on the war, anything about how she was going to go about finding you, what it was that smelled so darn good in the kitchen, who was going to be trying to hurt her, and why, and how she was supposed to survive… But for now, there’s only one that’s important.

“Do you have a bathroom anywhere?” she asks sheepishly.

Toriel chuckles softly. “Yes my dear, I do.”

She leads Ferrin down a hallway and past three doors into a nicely decorated washroom.

As Ferrin opens the bathroom door a few minutes later, she notices two voices coming from the now open middle door.

“I really can’t imagine why I thought you would have stopped them.”

“They wanted to leave, they must have families or friends who are worried about them. It was not my right to prevent them from leaving.”

“Yeah, just let the things that nearly wiped all of monsterkind off the map run around in our sanctuary. Great idea Toriel.”

“This is why I always told Asgore you were not fit to be the Captain,” Toriel says disdainfully, and Ferrin takes that as her cue to continue eavesdropping. Maybe not morally advisable, but she definitely wants to hear this conversation.

“What, because I don’t like humans? Seems like that should have been the first requirement.”

“They were attempting to create a peace treaty, not cause further harm!”

“Please, everyone knew the treaty wasn’t going to work out.”

“And it was in no small part because of people like you on both sides, who were too suspicious of each other to attempt to get along!”

“Being suspicious kept me alive. It kept all of you alive too. You can say all you want about peace and love and not hurting people but let’s face it - sometimes the peaceful method isn’t gonna work. At least I can face that,” Averia growls.

“You are vile,” Toriel says.

Averia mumbles something under her breath and the room falls silent. Ferrin decides she’s probably not going to get any more information by snooping and enters the room.

“Hello!” she says cheerfully to the irritated skeleton, who huffs in response.

“Hello Ferrin,” Toriel says. “I am making butterscotch-cinnamon pie, it should be nearly done now. Would you like a slice?”

“Oh, is that what smells so good? I would love some!”

“Well then, I will return shortly. Averia can not move much, you are not in any danger.”

An uncomfortable silence fills the room as soon as Toriel is gone. Ferrin feels obliged to break it.

“So… Why don't you like her?” Ferrin asks.

“We don't exactly see eye-to-eye.”

“Well yeah, she's way taller than you.”

Averia snorts. “Yeah, that too. But we've never really gotten along.”

“Is it the whole killing humans thing?”

“Nah, we can't ever agree on the best ingredients for a pie crust.”

Ferrin pauses for just a moment before laughing. Sarcasm she knows how to deal with.

“Yeah man, I feel you. How much yeast to put in there, how many teaspoons of salt. Always trips me up.”

Averia continues after a pause in which both of them listen to Toriel working in the kitchen.“She doesn't like fighting. Or anybody who fights for that matter.”

Ferrin hums an acknowledgement. So that's why the two of them have such a strained relationship. She supposes it makes sense.

The goat monster returns shortly with three plates hosting large slices of the pie Ferrin had smelled earlier. She accepts it eagerly, but remembers her manners in time to hold back from eating until Toriel has sat back down.

Ferrin sticks an eager forkful into her mouth and her tastebuds are flooded with warm, smokey cinnamon and sticky sweet butterscotch wrapped up in a flakey, buttery crust. She looks up to tell Toriel that her cooking is amazing and beg for the recipe when she notices that neither of the monsters have started eating yet. Crap, had she broken some kind of monster custom?

“You need to eat,” Toriel says, looking at Averia.

“I know, but…” Averia makes a face of irritation.

“The first bite will be the worst,” Toriel offers.

Averia sighs and shoves the fork into her mouth like she’s taking some kind of medicine. She makes a face and puts a hand to her mouth as though she's going to throw up as she chews. Toriel looks at her with sympathy, then notices Ferrin watching their exchange in confusion.

“Is something wrong, Ferrin?” Toriel asks, “If the pie is not to your taste I can get you something else?”

“Oh no, sorry, the pie is fantastic! It tastes amazing so I don't really understand why she looks so nauseous,” Ferrin says, nodding towards the skeleton.

“Ah, that would be confusing for you. To put it simply, monsters are made of magic, and so is our food. When a monster eats monster food we must convert the magic in the food into something that we can use, but if we ingest too much foreign magic we can cause ourselves to become sick. The definition of ‘too much’ depends on how much of our own magic we have,” Toriel explains.

“So Averia is low on magic and she's sick because of that?”

“In essence, yes. You do not have to worry my dear, human bodies are much more efficient at converting energy.”

“You’re still a great baker, but that was awful,” Averia groans.

“Remember to eat slowly,” Toriel reminds her.

“Yeah, I know,” she grumbles, eating another bite.

The pie is gone entirely too quickly for Ferrin, who licks at her fork regretfully once she finishes. She does feel more full than she’d anticipated from just eating a slice of pie though. Toriel eats so carefully and daintily that she finishes at nearly the same time as Averia, whose speed slowly increases as she works her way through the food. Toriel gathers the dishes and leaves to put them away.

“Averia, would you kindly draw out your soul for me?” Toriel asks when she returns from putting the plates away.

“Absolutely not.”

“To heal you I must see your soul,” Toriel insists firmly.

“Then don't heal me.”

“You are in desperate need of healing! Look at yourself! I am shocked that you are not dust already!”

“I said I'm fine,” Averia growls, moving to get up. Even with the magical food from earlier her arms are so shaky that her attempt to rise nearly ends with her falling onto the floor skull first. Toriel, probably guessing what would happen, catches her easily.

“People who are fine do not collapse in exhaustion,” Toriel scolds, moving the limp skeleton back onto the bed. “I must either heal you or leave you to die, which I refuse to permit. To heal you I must access your soul and so I ask that you allow me to.”

“I. Don't. Want. You. To,” Averia snarls, biting off each word.

“You are acting like a child!” Toriel says, whips of fire curling around her clenched fists. Welp, Ferrin thinks. This has escalated quickly. These two really do not get along.

“I don't give a fuck!”

“I can hardly believe that you were once the head of the Royal Guard with an attitude like this!”

“I'm surprised you didn't get us all killed by insisting on that peace and love bullshit!”

“You are utterly insufferable, I do not and have never understood why Asgore put up with you! Or perhaps I do, seeing as you are both murderers!”

“Why you - I practically raised that kid, you shut your goddamn snout!”

“Hey, guys, maybe you should calm down?” Ferrin suggests, flinching when both of the snarling monsters glare at her. Toriel at least as the decency to look guilty about it.

“Yes, of course. I am very sorry for having frightened you,” Toriel apologizes.

“I'm not,” the skeleton grumbles.

Toriel shoots her another heated glare (Ferrin mentally pats herself on the back for the pun) before forcibly softening her expression.

“Averia, I shall be frank with you; your condition is frightful. You are one stiff breeze from becoming dust. I doubt that any amount of monster food will be able to repair the damage.”

Averia’s shoulder twitches in what is probably intended to be a shrug. “I figured.”

“Then why will you not allow me to heal you?” Toriel asks, exasperated.

“Because… reasons.”

“Because reasons,” Toriel echoes, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, just…” Averia sighs. “You're not gonna let this go, are you?”

“You and I may not exactly get along but I refuse to let someone die when I could help them.”

“Alright, fine. You want to see my soul?”

“Yes, that is what I have been trying to do this entire time.”

“You asked for it,” Averia says, “But you're not gonna want to heal me after you get it.”

Toriel's baffled response is cut off as a soft glow appears behind Averia's borrowed clothing. The glow intensifies until a small, upside-down heart is floating a few inches from the skeleton's ribcage. It's grey with just the smallest amount of purple tinting. Crisscrossing the heart are grey chains that look like they've been drawn on with pencil.

Ferrin's curious gaze strays from the soul to Averia. Her gaze is very clearly averted from her own soul, teeth gritted as though she's waiting for something to strike her. Toriel's expression is one of horrified betrayal. It quickly melts into rage.

“What have you **_done_ **?” Toriel shouts, fireballs popping into existence.

“To be fair I did- “ Averia’s response is cut off as Toriel actually growls in anger.

“You… You! How dare you! You are despicable!”

“Either kill me or let me explain, I'm too tired for this bullshit,” Averia says tonelessly.

Toriel looks like she has several things she wants to say but the flames slowly die as she gets ahold of herself. Ferrin slumps in relief when they finally flicker out. Toriel's anger hadn't been focused on her but it had been terrifying.

“I will wait. But if your explanation is not satisfactory I will not hesitate to exact justice,” Toriel warns, her voice clearly expressing her anger.

“I'm not saying I don't deserve to die, but you aren't gonna be the one to do it. You've always been too weak to fight.”

“For you I might make an exception.”

“Terrifying. But anyways, the soul thing, it isn't what it looks like.”

“So you did not steal a human’s soul for your own selfish purposes? You did not deny someone their eternity in the afterlife?”

“I didn’t steal anything. He gave it to me. To get revenge. It’s been great.”

“He… gave it to you?”

“Yeah.”

“But why? Surely he knew it would be a fate worse than death?”

“Revenge, like I said. Do we really need to talk about this?” Averia asks, still refusing to look at what must be her own soul.

“I... “ Toriel shakes her head and reaches her hands out to the other monster’s soul. She pauses with her fingers a few scarce centimeters from the softly lit heart.

“If I heal you, what will you do?” she asks.

“You’re worried I’m gonna kill the human,” Averia says flatly.

“It seems a valid concern.”

“Let me get this straight; you’ve got a member of the species that nearly killed all of us right here, and you’re worried I’m the dangerous one?”

“Please, just answer the question,” Toriel says, sounding tired.

“I get the feeling saying ‘Stand up and kill the human so she can’t hurt anybody else’ is the wrong answer, so how’s about this. As long as the human doesn’t hurt anyone - not even a scratch - I’ll just follow them around without doing anything to them.”

Ferrin bites her lip to keep from interrupting, settling for rolling her eyes instead. Everybody down here seems a heck of a lot more dangerous than she is. But no, she’s the danger. Right.

“And you shall not kill any other humans unless they meet those requirements. Do you promise me?” Toriel asks.

“You… Fine, I promise. I won’t hurt them if they don’t hurt anybody else.”

“I may not be queen any longer, but the previous king had you swear to follow my orders as if I were his blood daughter. If you break your oath to me, you break your oath to him,” Toriel says solemnly.

“... I know,” Averia says softly.

Toriel nods decisively and her hands bridge the space between her and the soul. A soft, warm glow comes from her outstretched fingers for a few long minutes as Toriel concentrates. Averia sighs in relief as the magic takes effect.

“That is as much as I can do,” Toriel says, removing her hands from the heart. It fades away, presumably returning to Averia.

“I feel a lot better. Thanks Toriel,” Averia says, sitting up gingerly. Ferrin is somewhat startled to notice that there are little white lights in her eye sockets now, almost like pupils? It certainly makes the skeleton look less like something from a nightmare.

“Remember your promise,” Toriel say sharply.

“Don’t worry, kid’s safe from me as long as long as they don’t hurt anybody.”

The skeleton monster pivots so she can slide off of the bed, standing on shaking legs. She’s not actually wearing any clothing, but then again she doesn’t have anything to cover aside from bones. Is it still considered rude to look? Ferrin wonders before noticing something that drives the thought out of her mind. A thin, almost whiplike appendage is moving behind Averia for balance.

“Oh my god you have a tail?” Ferrin asks, staring in fascination. It’s made entirely of bone, holy crap. Has she seen a mythological creature like that before? She feels like the answer is yes, but then again monsters made up of bone aren’t exactly uncommon in fantasy stories.

Averia glances at her briefly but opts to ignore her, instead saying, “I could really use some clothes if you can spare them Toriel.”

“I fear that most of my clothes would be fear too large for you… There is a washroom at the end of the hall, would you like to use that while I adjust some of my clothing?”

Averia snorts. “If you’re willing to stake your life on a human’s goodwill I’m not gonna stop you. You sure you don’t want me here if she gets violent?”

“I’m not going to kill anyone!” Ferrin says in exasperation, throwing her hands in the air.

“I think I will accept the negligible risk,” Toriel says, watching Ferrin pout in amusement.

Averia shrugs and wobbles her way to the doorway. Ferrin would have offered help but gets the feeling that the gesture wouldn’t have been appreciated. Toriel informs the skeleton  that the room she’s looking for is to the left, and the other monster disappears into the washroom. Ferrin follows Toriel into the living room from before then on into the kitchen, where the goat monster begins to wash the dishes in the sink. Ferrin silently grabs the nearby towel to dry them, stacking them neatly on the counter. It reminds her of better days, back when you and her were still trying to make dinners where the both of you sat down together. That hadn’t lasted long and she wasn’t above admitting that it was mostly her fault. Recently she’d been counting herself lucky if you came downstairs and exchanged more than a brief hello before holing yourself up in your room again.

“Toriel?” she asks after a few quiet minutes.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Do you mind if I ask why you hate Averia so much? I mean the whole trying to murder me thing kind of sucks but she didn’t try to kill you. Or did she?”

Toriel laughs. “No! Oh dear, no she has not tried to kill me, although we have not ever really gotten along.”

“So why?”

“Well for one, violence is never the best solution, although in many cases it may be the easiest one. I am far from perfect,” Toriel sighs, “But I have always striven to find the most peaceful solution. She does not agree with this philosophy. You were not there, but I checked her LV. Fourteen.”

Toriel shudders in horror before realizing that Ferrin’s expression is full of confusion. “My apologies, do you not know what LV is?”

“I mean, if we’re talking video game stats it stands for level, right?”

Toriel looks at her as though waiting for her to continue. When she doesn’t, the goat monster prods her to continue, “Yes but level of what, Ferrin?”

“Level of… I don’t know, ability? Why, what does it mean to you?” Ferrin asks, confused.

“I do not understand why humans have lost this knowledge… But LV stands for LOVE, an acronym for Level of Violence, child. It is obtained through killing, and the highest LV possible is twenty.”

“Yikes,” Ferrin says, then, realizing that was probably not the appropriate response, “Shoot, sorry, just that’s a lot to take in. Holy smokes. So fourteen is pretty high, huh?”

“Indeed. Although I suppose that it is to be expected… She did fight in the war.”

“So you just get it from killing people? What about, like, just fighting in general?”

Toriel shakes her head as the two of them finish putting the dishes away. “No, fighting will not gain you any LV. To gain LV you must kill… And she has done much killing. I fear that she will do more, now that I have healed her… I wonder if I have made a mistake by relying on her loyalty to a dead king.”

Ferrin mulls over the new information as Toriel retrieves clothing and a sewing kit from one of the rooms down the hall. There’s just so much going on all of the sudden. Her sibling is lost underground with a kid she’s never even heard of, monsters are apparently a thing, magic is also evidently a thing, she’s met two people in the last few hours who tried to kill her, befriended a talking flower, and she’s just eaten with an incredibly tall goat woman and a skeleton with horns. And a tail. She’s relatively sure she’s supposed to be terrified, but instead there’s an odd feeling of… familiarity? She honestly feels like she’s met Toriel before.

“Have you been, uh, up top in the past few years?” Ferrin asks hopefully.

“The barrier prevents all of us from leaving,” Toriel says sadly as she snips away excess fabric. “Why do you ask?”

“To be honest it kinda feels like I’ve met you somewhere before? Before I fell, I mean.”

 

“How odd! I have been feeling a sense of deja vu for the past few days, even since your sibling fell down here! They seemed very familiar, and Frisk did as well. I feel almost as though I have known everything I would do for these past few days! Is that not strange?”

“That is weird… Maybe we both had some kind of prophetic dream,” Ferrin suggest jokingly.

Toriel laughs but she still looks bothered, brows knit as she returns to sewing. She finishes quickly and places the clothes near the bathroom door. A few minutes later, Averia joins them in the living room looking considerably whiter, wearing what had been Toriel’s violet and beige clothing. The beige pants are nearly sliding off of her hipbones, held on only by a belt, while the shirt hangs off of her shoulder, far too large for the much more slender woman.

“Great to see she hasn’t killed you yet,” Averia says to Toriel. “You mind if I sleep here tonight? I’ll be sure to find someplace else tomorrow.”

Toriel sighs. “I will not leave you to fend for yourself. Much has changed in the years you were gone. You may stay here until you have somewhere else to stay, do not worry. The second room down the hallway is yours, for as long as you need it to be.”

Averia mutters her thanks and goes back down the hallway, still stumbling slightly.

After Averia is leaves to the middle bedroom to sleep, Toriel insists on Ferrin taking the room closest to the living room. She’s too tired to object, looking forward to sleeping and hopefully getting rid of her headache. Who knows, maybe she’ll wake up back in her bedroom and find out that all of this was just a really weird dream. She actually kind of hopes that won’t be the case.  
  
  


\--------------------------------------

 

 

Ferrin wakes up to the sound of Toriel and Averia bickering. Apparently that’s going to be a common occurrence, she thinks, yawning and stretching. The two of them are still going at it when Ferrin opens her door fully dressed and sees what it is that they’re arguing about. Considering that they’re taking up the entirety of her doorway they would have been difficult to miss even without the argument. Her only exit is entirely blocked off by a few huge bones rising from the floor. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’d put them there.

“ -my home and I will not allow this kind of behavior!”

“I’m sorry for trying to make sure nobody gets hurt,” Averia says, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Toreil notices Ferrin poking at the blockade in front of her door and says, “My dear I cannot apologize enough for Averia’s behavior, I am so deeply sorry. It will not happen again.”

“It’s cool, not like I needed to leave before or anything. But, uh, Averia do you think you could let me out? Everybody’s awake now after all.”

The obviously reluctant skeleton monster makes a gesture and the bones vanish, allowing Ferrin to exit her room. A very tense breakfast follows, Toriel and Ferrin making awkward small talk while Averia glares at the opposite wall.

After another dish washing session (wherein the skeleton monster thankfully stays in the living room, making for a much more pleasant experience), Ferrin finds the courage to admit that she needs to address a pressing matter.

“I really hate to ask but Toriel…” Ferrin begins, trailing off. The woman is so nice, she really wishes that she could put this off for a while longer.

“You wish to leave, do you not?” Toriel asks sadly.

“Yeah. I’m sorry but I have to make sure that my sibling is alright, I need to see it for myself. I promise I’d stay if it weren’t for them, but...”

“It is… alright. I knew that this was coming,” Toriel says, smiling softly. Her eyes are bright with unshed tears.

“You’re gonna leave, huh?” Averia asks, eyeing her.

“Yup, you’ll finally have me out of your hair,” Ferrin says cheerfully. “Or your not hair, I don’t know.”

“You wish. I’m going with you,” Averia says.

“No, you are not,” Toriel declares, glaring at the skeleton.

“I said I wasn’t gonna hurt her, alright? But since you won’t do it, I’m going to take it upon myself to protect our people. You know, the ones that might be getting murdered right now because you let not one but two humans leave your post unsupervised?”

“The ones that need to be protected are the humans! You would not help her even if she were dying before you!”

“I said I wasn’t gonna hurt her, I never promised to keep her safe.” Averia shrugs, unapologetic.

Toriel looks furious again, but also torn. Her gaze moved from the stubborn skeleton to the determined human and hardens into resolve.

“In that case I am going with you,” Toriel says, turning and striding down the hallway.

“What the - Toriel, come on, that’s not necessary!” Averia shouts, following after her.

Ferrin watches in bemusement as both monsters stride out of the hallway, shouting back and forth the entire time. She supposes that must be her cue to wait, and is rewarded for her patience when a beaming Toriel and scowling Averia walk back towards her a few minutes later.

“I have packed my things, now let us be off!” Toriel declares.

“Are you sure Toriel? I mean, you made it sound like you’ve got a good reason to avoid leaving?” Ferrin asks.

“Well, yes, I do. But I think it is high time that I face my problems head on. And,” Toriel admits, “I am getting rather tired of being here by myself, and I cannot, in good conscience, let you leave here with someone who wants you dead.”

“I guess all I can do is thank you then,” Ferrin says.

“You are most welcome! Let us depart!” Toriel says cheerfully.

She raises her arms and takes a deep breath before pausing.

“Oh! I nearly forgot,” Toriel says, digging through her bag. Her hand comes out clutching a wad of black fabric that she shakes out to reveal a hooded cloak.

Averia watches as Toriel throws the cloak over herself before saying, "Why the need for disguise?"

"There is really no need, I suppose... But I do wish to go unrecognized if possible."

"Fair enough. Mind lending me one of those things?"

Toriel hands her another dark cloak from the bag. Ferrin idly wonders just how many she has in there. A few muttered words from Toriel and a loud tearing sound echoes through the hallway.

"What the hell was that?" Ferrin yips, looking around for whatever had made the sound.

"I have removed the barrier locking outsiders out of the Ruins," Toriel says solemnly.

Averia eyes her for a moment before shrugging and pushing the door open. The three of them step out into snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing with formatting, is this way easier to read? I think it is, I may go back and change previous chapters.
> 
> Ferrin doesn't do a heck of a lot of baking. Neither does Averia. Please do not ask them for recipes. (Also, I figure Toriel has a bathroom since Chara lived with them, and she's lived aboveground and knows about human's needs.) 
> 
> Averia's LV is pretty low compared to the number of people she's killed, but I figure that has a lot to do with intent, since most everything else comes back to intent. Averia's only killed in self-defence, defence of others, or because it was necessary, not because she wanted to gain anything from it (unlike Chara, whose goal is to become stronger).
> 
> Some of you seemed to be under the impression that Averia and Toriel were friends. Unfortunately that's pretty far from the truth, although I promise you that she isn't a totally despicable character. She just needs a lil' bit of redemption, much like a few other characters I can name. Poor thing's been through the wringer (and I've got a few things in store for her too) so it can be somewhat excused. (She's still a bit of a bitch though.) (Most of my favorite female characters are, tis a curse.) 
> 
> To everyone who wants to have an OC in my next story: I'm thrilled that so many people are interested! [Here are the 'rules' I'd like you to be aware of, and what I'm promising in exchange. ](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/post/139960423861/rules) [If anyone wants to create a character to fit a need, head here for a list of the available spots I've got.](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/post/139960817076/characters-i-need) If you've already got a character, either give me a link to it here, or contact me on tumblr with the link. (I use the tumblr messaging system all the time, I'm more than happy to talk with you there!)


	36. Calming Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans, Frisk and Reader get a well deserved break.
> 
> Beta Reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> In case you haven't already seen it, here I am on tumblr! [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)
> 
> (Fun Fact, the title of this chapter in Google documents is 'I Write Fluff Not Tragedies (Wait I Lied)'. My beta reader and I found this amusing and so I thought I'd share that with you all.)

For once Papyrus’ cooking doesn't make your stomach churn. Instead you feel sick with fear, and you're not sure that it's an improvement. The entire house is thick with it, everyone's eyes flickering between the door and their food. Thankfully Papyrus keeps up a steady stream of easily replied to chatter that keeps you from sinking too far into your thoughts. Sooner than you'd like, however, the loud skeleton excuses himself to make his rounds.

“I am very sorry my new friends, but I cannot leave my job undone!” Papyrus says as he leaves.

“He’s not actually gonna go do his job, is he?” you ask, watching Papyrus stride away towards Waterfall through the window.

“If he’s headed where I think he is then nah. Prob’ly gonna look out for Undyne. He’s just worried,” Sans says reassuringly.

“You don’t think he’s mad that we lied about being monsters?”

“Nah. He’s prob’ly already forgiven ya. He doesn’t remember the timelines but he remembers little things like emotions and stuff, so he knows he was really worried for your safety. He’ll focus on that.”

“Papyrus is such a great friend.”

“Heh. He is, isn’t he?”

Silence fills the room as the three of you try to think of something else to say. ‘Wow, we survived that’ seems too flippant, while the various curse words that come to mind aren't really appropriate. The obvious ‘How the hell did we not think of that earlier’ would just remind everyone of how many times you've screwed up - and how few chances you have left.

Frisk, noticing your expression, signs,  Hey, are you okay, [your name]? 

“‘Course I am. How about you kiddo?” you ask, shoving your problems to the side. You're an adult, you can handle your own mess.

 _They're fine, no thanks to you_ , Chara snarls.

Frisk frowns and signs,  Chara, please be nice, everybody’s had a long day. They're right though, I'm okay. I've done this a lot. 

You wince at the reminder, and the expression of guilt on Sans’ face increases.

Noticing the changes in your expressions, they quickly back pedal.  No, no! Don't blame yourselves it's okay. I'm okay, see? No injuries! 

“Kid, it's about more than just physical injuries,” Sans says sadly.

 _Like you can talk!_ Chara shrieks, causing you to flinch. _At least half of their nightmares were caused by you, you piece of shit!_

“Jesus Christ kid, tone it down, you're giving me a headache,” you say, already growing irritated.

You're almost impressed that they manage to flip you the bird using a mental image. _You're no better than he is! What happened to protecting Frisk, huh? You couldn't even fight Undyne,_ I _had to do it for you!_

You remind yourself that you're in a bad mood and should probably be quiet. You should definitely not say-

“Oh yeah? I didn't see you doing a hell of a lot of protecting, just throwing a temper tantrum like a little brat,” you growl. Yeah, that was the thing you weren’t supposed to say. Go you.

_At least I did something! You just sat there and let her kill them!_

Your chair clatters to the floor and you shoot to your feet. “Excuse me? You little fucker I was doing my best, alright?”

Chara laughs and you notice a hysterical note in it. _Your best, huh? Guess you're really just that pathetic!_

“Why you little-” you snarl, fists clenching just as a hand grabs your arm firmly.

“Hey, maybe now’s a good time for a nap, huh?” Sans suggests, not removing his hand even as you fix your angry gaze on him.

 _The lazy trashbag would suggest a nap_ , Chara sneers.

You're about to snap at them again when Sans’ hand tightens on your arm.

“Ya know they're just tryin’ to rile you up, right [your name]?” he says softly.

“They called you a.. lazy trashbag,” you admit lamely. Wow, getting angry about that sounds a hundred times worse when you say it out loud. Sans raises a brow bone at you. “Yeah, alright, I know, that’s childish and I shouldn’t be letting them get to me.”

Just ignore Chara  , Frisk signs.  They’re just irritable right now. 

_Oh, I’m sorry, next time I won’t try to protect you then, you ungrateful brat_ , Chara snaps. _And, [your name]?_

“Uh, yeah?” you ask cautiously.

_Good luck._

“I’m… sorry, what?”

 _Good luck. You’re gonna need it_ , they sneer before you have that odd sense of them not being there again.

“What happened?” Sans asks, looking between the two of you in confusion.

“Uh, I’m.. not.. sure?” you say, glancing at Frisk for an explanation.

They’re just angry, Frisk sighs. They’ll come talk to me sooner or later. They seemed like they were distracted by something, earlier… Do you think maybe it was something bad?

“No idea kiddo… But hey, we’ve got… Uh… Crap one sec… twenty.. five? Twenty five more chances to get it right,” you say cheerfully.

Sans snorts, then covers his mouth and looks at you sheepishly.

“What, something wrong with optimism?” you ask, hands on hips.

“No, no, s’not that,” he says, refusing to meet your gaze.

“So what is it then?” you ask, exasperated.

“Uh, well, ya said you started out with thirty seven tries, right?”

“Yeah?”

“And you’ve… used, fourteen of those?”

“Uh huh?” you really don’t see what he’s getting at here.

“And thirty seven minus fourteen is?” he asks, obviously trying to hold back laughter.

“... Based on your reaction, probably not twenty five,” you sigh.

“If it helps you were only off by two,” Sans offers.

“I do not need your pity!” you say, mimicking Papyrus’ tone with a wry grin. “In my defence though, I’ve got a killer headache. For some reason I’m exhausted, although I don’t know how I’m going to sleep when I’m expecting Asgore or Undyne - or both, what a nightmare that would be - to bash the door in at any moment.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Sans says, chuckling at your pre-emptive groan at what you’ve affectionately labeled his ‘bad joke tone’, “Sleep is a great method of wait loss.”

“What the heck are you - oh my god,” you groan again, burying your head in your arms.

“Hey, if you fall asleep at the table you’re gonna be sleeping in heavenly peas.”

“Sans,” you say warningly.

“What? These jokes aren’t tickling your funny bone? Should I try some different rib busters?”

“Sans!”

“Hey, I can’t help being a comic,” he says, winking when you chuck him a half-hearted glare.

“You’re no longer allowed to speak,” you say, rolling your eyes as Sans mimics locking his teeth shut. “Frisk, do you want a nap too or are you going to be up and about?”

I’d like a nap  , they admit.  I’m kinda tired. 

Thank goodness for that, you’d have felt awfully guilty if you’d gone to sleep and left them to their own devices.

You kneel down in front of them and offer your back. They giggle and latch on so you can piggyback them up the stairs and into Papyrus’ room. You very gently plop them onto the racecar bed and tuck them in.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay kiddo?” you ask.

They nod and smile up at you.

“Alright kid,” Sans says from behind you, “If ya need anythin’ we're going to be sleeping in my room.”

“Actually, do you want to sleep with us? We can chase away nightmares for you,” you offer. You're a little uneasy at the thought of leaving the kid to their own devices, no matter how capable they are.

They shake their head.  I'm okay but thank you. 

“You sure Frisk? We don't mind,” you say, glancing up at Sans for confirmation.

He nods in agreement. “We’re not tryin’ to give you the _cold_ shoulder here kiddo.”

Bad  , they sign sternly.

“My jokes are sans-tastic thank you very much,” he says, winking.

Bad Sans! But… would it be okay if you read me one of Papyrus’ bedtime stories? If you're too tired though it's okay. 

“Nah, we can do that for ya. How does Fluffy Bunny’s Big Adventure sound?” Sans asks as he walks over to the bookshelf.

Frisk nods enthusiastically.

Sans settles on the end of the bed with the book propped up on one leg while you sit down beside Frisk and stroke their hair. It had always calmed you down as a child, and the kid definitely wasn't objecting so you assume that they don't mind. They fall asleep just as Fluffy Bunny has finally escaped the evil clutches of the briar patch and decided to head home after learning the very valuable lesson that sometimes things only sound fun until you face the reality of the situation. You get the feeling there's some kind of deity laughing at Sans’ choice in story. At least someone is entertained by your mistakes.

Sans and you both slide off of the bed as quietly as possible after Frisk nods off. They don’t stir as you tiptoe across the room and gently close the door behind you.

“Do you really think they'll be alright?” you ask quietly as Sans shuts the door to his room.

“I get why you're worried but the kid’s tough. If they're determined to make it through then they’ll be alright.”

“I guess you're right…” you say, trailing off and looking at the door thoughtfully. Should you go back and keep Frisk company? They might not want it though… Maybe they do blame you for letting them die.

“Hey,” Sans says, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I recognize that expression. Stop blamin’ yourself for things ya can't fix. Frisk doesnt blame ya, and if they need you they’ll come find you. C’mon, you deserve a break.”

You sigh and turn away from the door to crawl into Sans’ bed. He settles in, arm resting on your waist and head pressed against your back. It's comforting, and you take a moment to appreciate the feeling of being held before you speak again.

“You know if Papyrus comes in here I don't think he's gonna buy the whole ‘we’re just friends’ shtick.”

Sans shrugs against you. “S’not a problem. Now, stop resisting a-rest.”

“On your head so be it,” you say, yawning.

The two of you fall into a companionable silence, enjoying the peace. It only takes a few minutes for you to realize that there's no way in heck you're going to be able to sleep just yet. Your mind may be tired but it's moving too quickly for you to actually get any rest. Instead you dwell on what has happened, and are amazed to realize that it took place over only a few hours. Dying thirteen times, almost killing somebody, watching the kid you were supposed to protect die… being possessed.

“Sans?”

“Yeah babe?” he asks sleepily.

“Why do you think Frisk trusts Chara so much? Or at least, enough to be friends with them?”

Sans hums thoughtfully against your shoulder. “Ya know I've never understood the kid. They do a lotta stuff I don't really get.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah, they're a strange kid.”

“But I've also seen them accomplish some pretty impossible things. Undyne, well, you've seen what she's like now, but the kid managed to befriend her. Heck they're probably the only reason she warmed up to humans at all. She’s not alone either. There’re a lot of monsters down here who tried to kill ‘em and the kid befriended ‘em instead. So I think maybe they're trying to reform Chara too. Dunno if that's a good plan or if it's even possible, but that's what I think they're doin’.”

You snort. “Definitely not possible.”

“D’you think so?” Sans’ voice is genuinely curious, so you pause for a moment and think.

“Well… I don't think that Chara's actually completely evil, I guess. Most of the time they remind me of myself when I was fourteen - trying to be edgy, saying things I'd regret two seconds later, getting angry over nothing. I never killed anybody, but then again I get the impression that Chara has had to deal with a lot… They seem pretty attached to Frisk too. They kept yelling at me about not having protected Frisk, can you believe it?”

“Actually yeah. Kid would always get mad at me for hurting Frisk during the bad times. Back then though I always kinda assumed the kid had made ‘em up though. I think you guys call it Multiple Personality Disorder or somethin’? Read ‘bout it in an old book that fell down, figured it was close enough to what the kid was actin’ like.”

“It's called Dissociative Identity Disorder now, but I know what you mean. I can see why, that's a more reasonable explanation than saying that the adopted child of monster royalty is possessing a kid so that they can kill everybody they loved…”

“Am I the only one who thinks that doesn't sound like the whole story?”

“I agree,” you say quietly. “I can’t imagine why Chara would want to kill Toriel and Asgore. It just doesn’t make sense. There's something going on that we can't see yet.”

“So ya do think there's somethin’ there worth saving?”

“I… I'm not sure. Before today I think I would have said yes, but now… I'm still angry about them possessing me. I'm angry that they took my justified anger and turned it into an unjustified action. I don't deny that I wanted to hurt Undyne, and I think she would've deserved it, but I never wanted her dead and I resent that they tried to use my body to do it. I- ”

“You?” Sans gently prods you when you remain silent for a few minutes.

“I… I'm working really hard on acting normal right now. I'm doing my best to keep myself together but I feel like they violated my.. trust, I guess. I keep expecting them to somehow grab ahold of my body and use it to hurt the people I care about. It's… a frightening possibility,” you admit.

“It's okay to be scared, [your name]. You've been through hell and back, nobody's gonna hold it against ya if you need some time to recover.”

“I'd hold it against me. It's my fault that we got into this mess in the first place, if I hadn't taken a break as soon as I found you, if I had just moved onwards as soon as I knew you were going to be okay… If I hadn't decided that I wanted to play hero in the first place…” you say, voice breaking.

“If you hadn't ‘tried to play hero’ I'd be dust right now,” Sans says firmly. “You want to help, we need help, you're not doing anything wrong by trying to do what's right. And don't expect yourself to be perfect, ‘cause it's not gonna happen. You're gonna make mistakes, s’just how life goes. Unless you wanna reset you've just gotta let go of the past, alright?”

You wipe your eyes so that the tears can't fall. “Yeah, you're right. Past’s in the past. Sorry for freaking out.”

“I was kinda expecting more screaming and crying, to be honest.”

“Did you just pass on a perfectly good bone pun?” you ask, startled.

“I figured ya might not appreciate it right now. I'm patella-ing  you though, it wasn't easy.”

You snort at the pun. “See, that's more like what I was expecting. Let's pick a less depressing topic, shall we?”

“I dunno, might be a good idea to talk about it, you know?”

“Yeah, I do but… later, okay? It’s all a little too much right now.”

“Promise you'll talk to me if ya need to?”

“If you promise to pick something else to talk about, sure,” you say.

“Ya know,” Sans says after a long pause, “I'm feelin’ pretty damn lucky to have such a great verte-bae.”

You can't help the startled laugh that escapes your lips. “What, you like me because I'm really awful at dodging spears?”

“Nah, it's ‘cause you're cute,” he says, winking.

“My boyfriend the shameless flirt,” you sigh, earning you a chuckle.

“Nah, seriously, I’ve got a pretty kick ass datemate.”

“Oh really?” you ask, turning over to face him. “Do tell.”

“Welp, let's see… they make some pretty mean pancakes, and they let my little bro totally wreck their kitchen once. It was a nightmare to clean,” he says, laughing a bit.

“And you'd know that because you helped me clean it?” you joke, warming to the distraction. Anything to keep your mind from wandering places it doesn't belong.

“Hey, I did help out,” he says, faking indignation.

“I know, I know,” you say, laughing.

“Hmph. As I was saying before I was oh-so-rudely interrupted, they're always nice to my bro, and I think they genuinely like him even though he's kinda loud. They're nice to everybody else too, and always willing to put up with my bullshit… they don't even seem to mind the three tons of baggage I've brought into the relationship. They once jumped down into a mystery cave to save people who didn't even remember that they were friends, can you believe it? They're thoughtful, and pretty smart, and they laugh at my gods awful jokes, can you believe it?”

“Oh, so you do admit that your jokes are terrible?”

“... Maybe one or two of them aren't quite gold. Definitely silver though.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Sounds like you're being too nice, nobody's that great.”

“Hey, I haven't even gotten to the best part yet,” he says.

“Please, I'm dying to hear it,” you joke.

“Well, the best part is that they’re always there when I, ya know, need somebody around. I'm, uh, not always the best at reaching out to people. S’been a problem for me I guess. But I just thought maybe they'd appreciate knowing that,” he says, rubbing the back of his skull awkwardly.

You smile softly, realizing that he's being genuine. “I'm sure they're glad to hear it. They haven't always been there for the people in their life when they needed it, so they'd be glad to hear that they've done something right.”

“Heh. Well then, I should thank them, don't you think?”

“Nah, I'm sure they know you're grateful.”

“Just knowin’ something without hearing it isn't always enough,” Sans says, turning your chin gently towards him. “Thank you, [your name]. For… everything.”

“Sure thing you bonehead,” you say, leaning forward to kiss him. “I haven't done anything that special though.”

“I’m sure I can think of at least one thing my verte-bae has done that's amazing,” Sans says, lighting up with a playful smile.

“Uh huh,” you say, raising a skeptical eyebrow. As embarrassing as the praise is… it's nice to hear.

“Well, there was that one time where they fought off six huge guys to protect a bunch of people who couldn't defend themselves…. And one kickass skeleton who probably could've swept the floor if he wasn't too nice to do it,” Sans says as though he's just remembered the event.

“Two average sized guys, and I can think of a couple of kickass skeletons who could've fought their way out of there,” you reply, rolling your eyes.

“Five. And the short one's too lazy to do anything.”

“Three, and I think someone told me that the incredibly handsome skeleton once fought off a pack of ferocious wolves to protect his verte-bae.”

“Ferocious wolves my non-existent ass. There were definitely five guys, I dunno if you spend a helluva lot of time fighting people in parking lots but I'm sure I counted five that time… And I dunno about incredibly handsome,” he says, chuckling at your praise.

“There were three guys, I should know.”

“Five.”

“Five guys walked up, two of them ran away. So yes, I fought three guys, it's not that impressive,” you say, trying not to sound as embarrassed as you feel.

“So you sayin’ you do spend a lot of time fighting people in parking lots?” Sans asks.

You roll your eyes. “Totally, it's a hobby. Probably my favorite right next to stripping naked and running through populated areas.”

“Ya learn somethin’ new every day,” Sans muses, face full of mischief. “Who would've thought my verte-bae had such interesting hobbies?”

“Oh my god,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Sometimes I can't believe I'm dating you.”

He chuckles softly. “Yeah, me neither.”

You poke him, saying, “No more self-deprecating comments from you mister. You just need to accept it, I've fallen for your rugged charm.”

Sans laughs, and you grin down at him.  Apparently your words are just that funny, because his laughter lasts for a while before he can gather himself well enough to respond.

He flicks tears out of the corners of his eye sockets and says, “‘Rugged charm’, gods, you're crazy.”

You shrug, still grinning. “Probably. I mean, I'm dating a skeleton and trying to convince a fish lady and a giant goat dude not to kill me while I drag a goat lady’s kid through underground caverns full of friendly monsters. Oh, and there's an irritable ghost and a sarcastic blob man who's got some dubious intentions. I haven't woken up in the psych ward yet though, so I might as well enjoy myself.”

“Hey, my story’s weirder.”

“Oh really?”

“You've got nothin’, try this on for size: I’m dating a member of the species that features in most of our horror stories, and they’re one a the sweetest people I’ve ever met. I've gone on my first date with the same woman at least two hundred times, said woman is the ex-queen, who's child got turned into a fucking flower that decided to mess with everyone's lives. I've lived the same week a few thousand times, died and come back to life, watched everyone I know die and come back to life, and befriended our killer, except they're not really the killer ‘cause the killer is actually that queen's kid too. Oh, and nobody but me and the murder child remembers- And I'm just gonna stop there, let's just say shit’s pretty weird.”

You look at him sympathetically. “Apparently I'm not the only one having trouble.”

He looks away, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Ya know, somehow that sounded funnier in my head. Sorry, didn't mean to drag the mood down, I was tryin’ to cheer you up. Didn't mean to make it ‘bout me either.”

You wave your hand to dismiss his words. “Nah, don't worry about it. Just because I've suddenly been dropped into this mess doesn't mean you've gotta take care of me. I'm okay.”

“Really?” Sans asks, looking at you skeptically.

“Alright, maybe a tick less than okay,” you admit. “But it's gonna be fine. I just need some time to calm down, a break.”

“Heh, that I understand,” Sans says, tightening his grip around your waist.

“Shit kinda sucks, huh?” you say.

“Shituation,” Sans says, snorting again.

“Tis a shituation,” you agree, smile wryly.

“Maybe we're in the psych ward together,” Sans muses.

“Theoretically possible. I call the remote.”

Sans laughs in surprise. “Fine, I'm gonna steal your dessert then.”

You laugh even though it isn't really funny. There isn't much that is funny about this situation, but you think you can understand why Sans relies so heavily on jokes and bad humor now. When things suck sometimes all you can do is laugh about it, even if your laughter has an edge of hysteria to it. Speaking of edge…

“Hey, Sans, since we’re obviously not sleeping anyways, want to hear the weirdest thing people did with Undertale? Well, I mean, aside from- “ you cut yourself off before the word fontcest can escape because there is no way in hell you're explaining that one. Or the tentacle thing. Well, you've replaced the crushing nihilism with embarrassment, that's got to be an improvement, right?

“Aside from what?” Sans asks, brow bone raised.

“Let's see… where's my laptop?” you ask, avoiding the question. Sans must know what you're doing but he just shrugs and a second later your laptop floats over to you, wrapped in glowing blue magic.

“Thank you!” you say, flipping it open in enthusiasm.

You're very aware of Sans watching over your shoulder and silently hope that you didn't put anything on here that you should be embarrassed about. Nothing pops up in the brief amount of time that it takes for you to find what you're looking for.

“Oh, sweet, I found one,” you say, grinning as you pull up the image of the stocky, sweating skeleton.

“Uh?”

“It's you! Sort of.”

“That’s not me,” Sans objects, staring at the drawing. “Gold caps are tacky. Also, sharp teeth? Seriously?”

You laugh at his response. “It's only sort of you. People made up AUs, oh, sorry, alternate universes, where they switched some things up but kept the characters mostly the same. This one's Underfell, everybody’s dressed like the only store down here is Hot Topic and they're all generally kinda angry.”

“But why?” Sans asks, baffled.

“You know I'm not sure. I guess ‘cause it's interesting to see your favorite characters in different situations? I'm definitely glad Underfell isn't real though, depending on who was telling it those guys were downright nasty…”

“You're tellin’ me there's a… that,” Sans says, gesturing at the drawing of Underfell Sans, “For Paps?”

“Oh, yeah! Here just let me…” you trail off, looking through the file. “Got it!”

“Oh my gods,” Sans groans, looking at Underfell Papyrus, “he looks…”

“Edgy?” you suggest, barely holding in your laughter.

Sans groans again, nodding his head. You laugh and keep scrolling.

“What the heck is that?” he asks as you go past a drawing.

“Which one?”

“That,” he says, pointing to a large skeletal dragon/dog hybrid. “The head looks kinda like my Gaster Blasters.”

“Oh, those! I'm not sure who created them, but someone decided that it would be cool if you and Papyrus were shapeshifters.”

“So that's supposed to be me?” he asks, eyeing it uncertainly.

“Let me… yeah, blue eyes, it's probably you. Why, does it bother you? We can stop if you'd like, I just thought it might be interesting.”

“Nah, it's fine. It would be cool if we could turn into those things though,” Sans says thoughtfully. “Mosta the shapeshifters died in the days before the war.”

“So my dream of riding you into battle will never come true?”

Sans laughs. “I mean, you could always try but nah, I can't shapeshift.”

“Ah well,” you say, mentally checking off one of your many questions.

“‘Ride me into battle’”, he snorts.

“Hey, it would be cool.”

“If you say so. Anythin’ else on there? This’s kinda interesting.”

“Let's see… I must have an Underswap picture on here somewhere, and you’d like Outertale… Oh! I should show you Error, he's great too,” you say.

  
By the end of the night you've shown Sans as many AUs as you can think of, describing them as best you can. His favorites are Outertale and Reapertale (You’re pretty sure he just likes the idea of creeping people out as a god), and he’s fond of Underkeep, even though he laughs at the idea of putting that much effort into his outfit. He continues to insist that Underfell creeps him out and can't seem to handle the idea of Underswap Papyrus. Overall, it's a great way to distract him from asking you awkward questions and causes your problems to slip from your mind entirely. That isn't to say that you don't nearly jump out of your skin when Frisk opens the door to join the two of you on the bed. They decide that they love Underswap and Underfell, but refuse to pick a favorite. (You very deliberately distract them when they try to ask about the drawing of themselves with pitch black eyes.). And Papus’ slamming the door open actually makes you scream, but aside from being generally jumpy, the rest of the day passes peacefully. Chara doesn't return, but then again neither does Undyne. You decide to take that as a good sign. You could use some of those.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU Credit (This took so long to create, someone save me from myself):
> 
> ~ [Reapertale](http://renrink.tumblr.com/post/135603141683/next-so-this-is-a-comic-about-how-sans-and-toriel) by [Ren-Rin.](http://renrink.tumblr.com/) (Heavily Soriel, gorgeous art.)  
> ~ The original creators of Underfell appear to have removed their blog, but if you were wondering what UF Sans and Pap look like (the AU is mostly design based) [here's something that should give you an idea.](http://papyrusthegreater-uf.tumblr.com/post/139649150125/digitalcrayon-inspired-by-this-beautiful-voice)  
> ~ [Error!Sans has his own blog here,](http://askerrorsans.tumblr.com/tagged/errortale/chrono) but was created by [loverofpiggies](http://loverofpiggies.tumblr.com/), who also runs the aforementioned Error blog. (They've also got an ongoing Christmas Party AU comic, Aftertale, and an abomination known as Fresh that I'm rather fond of.)  
> ~ [Underswap can be found here!](http://underswapped.tumblr.com/)  
> ~ The Frisk with pitch black eyes is known as Core!Frisk,  
> [and can be found here.](http://corefriskau.tumblr.com/) (Reader avoided mentioning them to Frisk [and Sans] because Core!Frisk was killed by their Sans as revenge for resetting so often.)  
> ~ Blaster!Sans and Blaster!Papyrus were created by [protectkirby](http://protectkirby.tumblr.com//) (this is not an Undertale blog, nor is it dedicated to the AU) [and the design can be found here.](http://undertaleau.tumblr.com/post/136317410999/gaster-blastersans-au)  
> ~ Underkeep belongs to [rotodisk,](http://rotodisk.tumblr.com/) and [this is the design.](http://rotodisk.tumblr.com/post/138387901497/whew-wanted-to-shade-these-but-i-doubt-i-got-so) (It's all absolutely gorgeous stuff.)  
> ~ Information on [Outertale here,](http://undertaleau.tumblr.com/post/136425421084/outertale-au) and the [official blog here!](http://outertale.tumblr.com/) (Official blog is on hiatus.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I love Underfell and I'm generally fond of Underswap, I just couldn't see Sans sharing my opinion. I think Frisk would like all of the different AUs for various reasons (although neither they nor Sans would be fond of Core!Frisk [Again, I'm fond of the idea. Please remember that characters express opinions that I myself do not share.])
> 
> Reader decided against showing Sans Error!Sans, figuring it would be too disturbing. They're probably right.
> 
> As a side note, the AUs will come up again later [and with more of the characters available to comment on them] so if there's one you'd like to see them respond to, make sure to mention it!
> 
> Also I'm imagining Underfell Averia and cackling. Or, even better, original Sans or Averia stuck in Underfell. Sans would probably just say fuck it, this's my reality now, and Averia would be so done. So done. Papyrus is not allowed to enter Underfell because they would try to hurt my poor cinnamon roll.


	37. Everybody's A Little Bit Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader realizes just how much has changed in eight months.
> 
> Also known as I like writing angst. Nineteen darned pages later, we've got whatever this is. This chapter is obscenely long. I've got a theory that by the end of the story I'll just be writing novel length chapters. There's just no good break point, so here's whatever this is.
> 
> Flashbacks are marked by italics in between '-', hopefully that's clear.
> 
> Beta Reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Tumblr: [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

Averia nearly collapses when Toriel suggests taking a break less than thirty minutes into their walk. The large goat monster doesn't seem to need the break any more than Ferrin does, so she's definitely suggested it solely for Averia's sake. Ferrin waits around for a few minutes, but when Toriel draws out a book and makes it clear she's planning to stay put for a while, she decides to make her getaway. The woods are too tempting to resist adventuring through them after all.

Just as Ferrin tries to edge away so she can inspect the forest, Averia’s eye sockets snap open.

“Don't you dare,” she growls, staring Ferrin down.

“What? I'm bored, it's not like I'm going to run off or anything,” Ferrin says.

“Uh huh,” Averia says skeptically.

“I'll be like ten feet away. Call me when you guys decide to head out again,” Ferrin says, deciding to ignore the skeleton's objections.

She turns and begins to walk away, only to stop and scowl as she hears scuffling behind her. Averia is struggling to her feet, claws dug into the bark of a nearby tree in an attempt to steady herself.

“Sit back down, geez,” Ferrin says, resigning herself to boredom. She clears a rock of snow and plops down on it, sighing. An adventure wouldn't be much fun if she had a shambling wreck of a guard trying to follow her everywhere. Trying being the key word.

Averia eyes her distrustfully before slumping back down into a resting position.

Only a few minutes later Ferrin is already bored out of her mind. She's deciphered the cover of Toriel's book, - apparently titled ‘1001 Snail Facts’, although she's not entirely sure she's read it correctly - shoved the snow at her feet into a small pile, and peered up at what must be the ceiling of the cavern. Rocks, check. Lots of really, really boring rocks.

“Hey, Toriel?” she asks.

“Yes my dear?”

“How many, uh, of you guys are down here, anyways?” Ferrin asks, stumbling over the word ‘monsters’. It just seems rude to refer to anyone that way, even if it is apparently the word that they use for themselves.

Toriel hums thoughtfully. “You know, I am not quite sure myself. Not many of us made it here, and many of those who did ‘fell down’ not long after… The king also instituted laws restricting the number of children each couple can have, so our numbers cannot have increased too much in these last three hundred years. Perhaps three hundred or so?”

Ferrin whistles. That's a heck of a lot of monsters to be hiding unseen in a mountain. “Dang, no kidding?”

“No my dear, I am not kidding. I know it is a very small number but there is just not a lot of room down here,” Toriel says sadly. “We have done remarkably well, considering.”

“It's better than I'd expected,” Averia says.

“It is better than any of us had anticipated,” Toriel agrees.

“The humans who fell, their families must still be around somewhere, right?” Averia asks.

“There are other humans down here?” Ferrin asks, startled.

“To answer both of your questions, no. None of those who fell survived longer than a year,” Toriel says sadly. “They could not survive on a diet of solely magical food. Oh! But do not fret, Ferrin, we have since found a solution.”

Ferrin breathes a silent sigh of relief, glad to hear that the humans hadn't died because they were attacked by the monsters. The news that she’ll be alright if she manages to get out - which Toriel seems to believe is possible - is also comforting. Averia stays silent, face a careful mask to hide whatever her reaction is to the news.

The silence drags on uncomfortably, and Ferrin takes on the responsibility of breaking it. “So what do the others look like? There's a pretty big variety, right? I mean, you've got Averia over here, and then there's you, Toriel, and I ran into a frog on my way to your place,” she says, deliberately leaving Flowey out of the list.

“Monsters come in many shapes and sizes. Why do you ask?” Toriel questions.

“Well, I mean, I'd really rather not run into, say, a zombie.”

“A zombie?” Toriel asks, confused.

“Yeah, you know, like, dead bodies brought back to life? Stumbling around trying to eat people and moaning?” Ferrin imitates a zombie, doing her best raspy moan. It’s apparently a rather poor imitation, since both monsters look at her funny before Toriel starts giggling and Averia rolls her eyelights.

Toriel brings herself back under control and says, “They certainly sound… interesting, but I do not believe I have ever met a monster like what you are describing. There were similar undead beings, but they are not sentient creatures.”

“So…?”

Averia scoffs. “So, your ‘zombies’ aren't monsters.”

“They aren’t?”

“No, they are not. They are human dead, brought back by a strong mage. It is a horrid branch of magic. Although,” Toriel says, shuddering, “I would much rather meet a… ‘zombie’ than a revenant.”

“For once I agree with you,” Averia says, distaste clear in her expression.

“Uh?” Ferrin asks, looking between the two of them in confusion.

“Have you never heard of a revenant before?” Toriel asks.

“Nope.”

“They are horrible, unfortunate creatures created by immoral human necromancers… A soul bound to their own corpse by magic, forced to obey any order that they are given,” Toriel says darkly.

“That sounds absolutely awful…” Ferrin says. “Why would anyone do that?”

“Revenants are powerful tools for the necromancer who created them, and necromancers are notorious for being the scum of the earth. Honestly, what kind of depraved, disgusting individual would-”

“Alright!” Averia says loudly, cutting Toriel off mid-sentence. “I've rested enough, let's head out.”

“Are you certain?” Toriel asks. “I think it might be best if-”

“Yeah, come on, sooner we find the other humans the sooner I get to have all of my problems in one spot,” Averia says, already walking forward. Ferrin wonders if she’s imagining the tension in her stance.

Ferrin and Toriel share a confused glance before following her down the road. The silence is tense and uncomfortable but this time Ferrin gets the impression that it would be a very bad idea to break it. Fortunately, someone else does it for her not long after.

A pair of dogs in black robes block their path forward, axes raised in a fighting stance.

"Stop! The Royal Sentries command you stop in the name of the king!" one of the dogs says.

“Toriel?” Ferrin asks, eyeing the pair.

Toriel gives her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before walking forward a few steps and lowering her hood. "Ex-queen I may be, but I have a right to walk the woods of my home, do I not?"

"Q-queen Toriel!" they exclaim in unison, bowing deeply.

"Former Queen Toriel," she gently reminds them. "But please, just Toriel is fine. There is no need to bow to me, Royal Sentries."

Both guards begin speaking at once, stumbling over each other's words.

"Oh - of course not we just- "

"We are very sorry to have- "

They stop, and the female one begins again.

"We apologize for our rudeness, Miss Toriel, but in light of the recent situation we must ask… Is that a human?” she asks, pointing straight at Ferrin.

“Yes, she is, and you would do well to remember that she is under my protection. What do you mean by ‘recent situation’?” Toriel asks, gaze cold.

The dogs glance at each other again.

“Perhaps this would be better discussed over hot drinks?” the other dog suggests. “It’s a pretty long story and we would hate to force the queen to stand around in the cold.”

“That sounds lovely. But first, please, the other two humans are safe, are they not?” Toriel asks.

“Yes, your- Yes, Miss Toriel. Are they friends of yours?”

“Indeed. Are they nearby?”

“Yes, they're resting with the skeleton brothers in Snowdin,” the female dog says.

“We can take you to them, if you'd like,” the male dog offers.

“That would be very much appreciated, thank you,” Toriel says.

Luckily, their group had been headed in the right direction. They follow the two dogs, who introduce themselves as Dogamy and Dogaressa. The two of them are mostly quiet save for answering the questions posed to them as they lead the group through the forest. Across an immense bridge (with.. peeling paint?), the five of them enter a town, which the dogs identify as Snowdin.

  
  
\-------------------------------

 

After yet another round of spaghetti last night, you’re more than ready to mix things up. Papyrus and Frisk are out ‘patrolling’ - which you heavily suspect consists of far more snowball fights than actual work - and Sans has offered to take you out to Grillby’s.

“You’re not serious?” Sans asks hopefully for what must be the fifth time as you put on your jacket. Ever since you’d brought the subject up, he’s been unable to put it back down.

You sigh and say, “You’ve asked that a million times, and my answer hasn’t changed. Gaster told me that there are two people we’ve got to save, and I’m telling you I think they’re Flowey and Chara.”

“Ya do know that sounds like an awful plan, right?”

“What, saving two kids from what’s basically an eternity of torment?”

“Ya mean tryin’ to reform two mass murderers, who can also control time. And possess people, including yourself,” Sans says skeptically.

“When you put it like that it sounds insane.”

Sans gives you a look telling you that that’s exactly what he’s trying to convey.

“Alright, alright, yeah, it’s a bit weird but it’s all that I’ve got,” you sigh, walking through the door that he’s holding open for you. “You have anything better?”

“Ya know I don’t or I woulda tried it already. I'm just sayin’, Chara’s dangerous and so’s Flowey. I dunno why you think you can reform ‘em but I'm not gonna let them hurt anybody else because they've somehow brainwashed you and the kid.”

"Okay, look, Sans..."

"I know, I know. You're not brainwashed, Frisk knows what they’re talking about, Chara and Flowey are just kids, but ya can't deny that they've killed people before. And they tried to use you to kill Undyne yesterday. I'm not exactly jumping at the chance to help ‘em out.”

You sigh and keep walking. He's probably got a good point. Those two are dangerous and you've probably lost your mind. As it is, you’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t take much notice of the odd group in front of you. Well, at least not at first.

"Woah, this is so cool!" Ferrin says - Wait.

"FERRIN?!" you shriek, eyes locking onto the group in front of you. No - come on, not now this isn’t... fucking hell.

Two of the five aren't surprising in the slightest, being the dog couple you’ve met a few times now. But accompanying them are a pair of rather tall, dark cloaked figures and... Ferrin. Your sister is staring, eyes wide and eager, at the town, probably looking at the monsters. She jumps in surprise at your voice, turning towards you.

"[Your name]!" she shouts, running towards you.

You stare in confusion, still unable to take in what's going on. Your sister, smack in the middle of the underground. Your sister, running towards you with tears in her eyes. Your sister, face twisting in anger and pain as she - Oh fuck.

Ferrin's fist slams into your face, knocking you flat onto the snow. You bring up your hand to your eye in shock. Ferrin had just... hit you?

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Ferrin shouts, towering above you, fist clenched.

"What the hell did I do?" you ask, still stunned.

"What did you - WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, WHAT DID YOU DO?"

You flinch back as she moves to hit you again, only to stop just before she hits your face again. You watch in horror as her anger turns into sorrow and she starts sobbing, arms wrapped around her torso.

"You lied to me! You said you were only gonna be gone for a little while - it's been a week! And the whole time you had Abe text me? Do you realize how selfish that was? All so you could do what? What are you accomplishing here?" she demands.

"I, uh...."

"Do you even know how worried he was? How worried I was? Why did you do this to us?"

"Ferrin, I'm sorry, alright?"

"Sorry isn't even going to begin to cut it!" Ferrin shrieks. "You deserve to fucking die for the bullshit you've pulled here, you know that?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I made you worry! But I just didn't want you to be in danger!"

"Why the hell did anyone have to be in danger!? How the hell did you even get down here? Why did you have to go do whatever the fuck it is you think you're doing?"

"I, uh...." you say, uncomfortably aware of the monsters eavesdropping nearby. The people who'd been with Ferrin are also drawing closer.

"Great! You don't even have an excuse for this bullshit!" Ferrin shouts.

"Ferrin, look, there's a really good explanation but not here, please?"

"What the fuck? I'm not going to let you off the hook, godda- "

She cuts off as a soft white paw extends from one of the cloaked figures and places itself on her shoulder.

"Perhaps it would be best to listen to your sibling's explanation?" the figure suggests, and you start as you recognize the voice.

"Tori?" Sans exclaims.

"Toriel?" you ask, gaping up at the monster.

The figure makes a frantic shushing motion, and the two of you bite down on any further questions. Ferrin huffs and refuses to meet your gaze. Your brain can't quite manage to catch up with whatever is going on, but you get to your feet anyways.

"Uh, so... how's about we head to my place? We can talk there," Sans says.

He's obviously as puzzled as you are, eye lights locked onto the only figure you don't have an explanation for. They haven't spoken, instead observing silently. Or not so silently, you realize. They're breathing heavily, like they've just run a marathon, while the other two don't appear to be strained at all.

Toriel thanks the dog guards and they (very) reluctantly leave. The five of you head back to the skeleton brother's home in silence. Inside, the unknown figure immediately flops down onto the couch, revealing themselves to be almost skeletally thin.

Sans eyes them for just a moment before saying, "So, uh, I'm Sans, and this is [your name]. Who are you guys?" He already knows, of course, but he must be more used to these strange meetings, because he's taking it in stride.

"Oh! My apologies. I am Toriel, former Queen. We," she says, indicating you, "have meet before, in the Ruins. I believe we may also know each other? You voice seems rather familiar."

"I, uh, yeah, I think we do," Sans says, smiling up at her uncertainly.

"I am glad to finally meet you," she says warmly. "This is [your name]'s sister, Ferrin. And the last member of our party is called Averia."

"Wait, Averia?" Sans asks, double taking.

"Yup. Surprised to meet another skeleton down here," the cloaked figure says, removing their hood. Well, at least the horns explain why the cloak had looked so strange, you think. You suppose it had been an odd assumption on your part to believe that all skeletons must be human shaped when you'd only met two of them.

"Likewise," he says, eyeing her uncertainly.

"Don't suppose there're any others?"

"My bro, yeah."

"Huh," she says. “Well, at least we haven’t gone extinct.”

When she doesn't say anything else, Sans seems to give up on talking to her.

“So, uh, Toriel, thought you didn’t wanna leave the Ruins?” he asks.

“Oh! Well, no, I did not, but I could not in good conscience let these two leave without me,” she explains, gesturing towards Ferrin and Averia.

“Well, s’nice to see ya,” Sans says, grinning up at her. You remind yourself that he’s had a stressful time too, and is probably just happy to see his long time friend… and you’re still mildly irritated with him for looking at her like that. Great.

Ferrin glares at you, interrupting Toriel mid-sentence. “I hope nobody’s going to mind if I take my sibling here outside so that we can talk?”

“Stay where I can see you,” Averia says, eye lights locked on the two of you. What the heck?

“Whatever,” Ferrin says, striding outside.

You look at Sans pleadingly, not sure what you’re asking for. He looks at you sympathetically and shrugs. You sigh and walk out into the snow, resigned to a fate worse than death.

“So, uh… Something wrong?” you ask, wincing at your choice in words while Ferin glares at you.

“Noo, everything’s just fine,” she hisses, voice thick with sarcasm.

“Ferrin, just… I know what you’re gonna say. You’re mad about me leaving, right?”

“That’s part of it,” she agrees begrudgingly.

“I’m not gonna be able to guess what it is that you want to say, so you're just gonna have to tell me,” you say, bracing yourself.

“Why didn’t you say anything? About… this?” Ferrin asks, jerkily waving at the snow covered cave you’re standing in.

Ferrin is that mixture of angry and sad that you’re far too familiar with, one that you haven’t seen in nearly eight months. But that’s wrong, isn’t it? That was before. You’d seen this expression just last week in this timeline.

“I just…. I didn’t want you to get hurt,” you say, taking a stab at honesty. Well, okay, half-honesty, but it’s something.

“I don’t need you to! [Your name], I’m twenty four years old. I’m an adult, I can handle this! But, no,” Ferrin says, raising a hand to shut you up. “Do you know what’s really bugging me right now? You won’t even tell me why. Why the fuck it’s so goddamn important for you to be here. Why I couldn’t be here with you. Why you’re so fucking friendly with that skeleton guy, don’t think I didn’t notice that. You won’t tell me shit and I’m so done. I’m done.”

She’s staring at you, tears in her eyes, voice high in desperation. Oh god, you’ve really messed up this time.

“Ferrin, please, just calm down,” you say, the scene before you reminding you eerily of-

 

\- _You'd fought, again, it had started with something silly you think you’d left a sock in the bathroom but it had escalated, names flying, digging verbal claws into already pain-filled wounds, ‘You fucking bitch!’ ‘At least Mom never tried to hide the fact that she hates me!’ ‘Coward!’ ‘Liar!’ ‘Unstable asshole!’ ‘I’m not a child!’ ‘Oh yeah? Then stop acting like one!”  more, so many more._

 _You’d just been so_ **_angry_ ** _. At yourself, your parents, the whole world and only one person there to take it out on._

_Ferrin crying, hand up to her cheek, covering the place where you’d slapped her._

_“Oh god I'm so sorry-” you’d whispered, nausea settling into your stomach._

_Ferin, trembling, tears falling, something whispered too quietly for you to hear._

_“I-I couldn't hear you I'm so - god Fer, I-”_

_“DON'T CALL ME THAT!”_

_“Please-”_

_“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!”_

_You hadn't been able to do anything as she'd run out of the house._

_You'd waited. All night, sitting in the hallway leading up to the front door, knees drawn up to your chest. You'd fallen into an uneasy doze and woken up to dawn sunlight in your eyes and an empty house._ -

 

You snap out of it to find Ferrin is very much there and shouting again. “No! What is it with you and telling me to calm down when things go wrong, huh? Has it ever occurred to you that not all of us are blessed with your god given talent of always being able to handle whatever’s thrown at you? Except you don't, not really, but you don't trust anyone enough to admit that!”

“Ferrin, _please_ \- “

“NO! Don't ‘please’ me,” she hisses, jabbing a finger into your chest. “I am so - so done! I can't even handle this right now! Why are you so - so-”

“You don't have to- “

“So secretive! Nothing’s ever out on the table with you it's always just ‘Oh, nothing’s wrong, Ferrin go and sit down, pretend like nothing’s going on, let your big sibling handle everything, you don't need to know anything even though I’m headed off to some fucking underground world filled with potentially deadly monsters and worrying everyone who knows me sick because I can just handle it can't I! [Your name] knows what’s best, go sit down and be a good girl Ferrin stay out of danger, you won't be able to help anyone anyways, you useless piece of garbage!’”

“Ferrin!”

“WHAT?!”

“I wouldn't - I don't - You're wrong.”

“Oh, really? Explain yourself then, for once! Give me a straight answer!”

“I already told you that I can't, alright?”

Ferrin’s shaking in anger, teeth gritted. “Fine. Fine, yeah, go ahead. You’ve already proven that you don’t trust me, not like I was expecting anything else from you.”

She whips around, stalking towards the outskirts of the town. She pauses, and you can see her shaking as she clenches her fists, spitting more poisonous words.

“But don’t you dare talk to me until you’re ready to treat me like a real person. I’m sick of the lies, [your name]. I’m sick of not being able to believe you, and wondering what you’re hiding from me.”

Her shoulders slump and you can hear the tears in her voice.

“I’m sick of all of this,” she says, almost too quietly for you to hear.

Her words, her sorrow, they hit you like she’s shot arrows through your soul. You’re frozen, body as cold as the snow falling from the sky as you watch her walk away. She doesn’t turn, doesn’t even pause as she continues.

She’s already been gone for a few minutes by the time you manage to move, and even then you can’t stop yourself from reaching your hand in her direction.

It’s several long minutes later that you manage to force your frozen limbs forward, stumbling into the house. The hushed whispers stop as you cross the threshold, but you can’t bring your gaze up to look at them.

You open your mouth and nothing comes out. A boney hand comes to rest on your shoulder, trying to comfort you.

“Hey, [your name], you alright?” Sans asks, voice low and concerned.

“Ferrin,” you mutter, grimacing as you realize no one’s going to understand that.

“Toriel,” you say tiredly, looking up and locking eyes with her, “Fe… My sister just walked off towards the forest, I’ve got no idea where she’s headed and if I go after her things won’t go well. Could you maybe…?”

“Yes, of course, [your name],” Toriel says, smiling at you sadly. “I will ensure that your sister comes to no harm.”

“Thanks Toriel,” you say, aware that the monotone in your voice is probably worrying them but unable to really care.

Toriel hurries to the door, taking a moment to exchange glances with Sans. She pauses with her hand on the door, looking back at Averia.

“You will remember your promise, will you not?”

“Geez Toriel. Yeah, I got it, no killing the humans. I’ll be following you in a minute anyways, not gonna stick around,” Averia says irritably.

Toriel looks at her sternly but seems to accept her words. She strides out of the door, not running but definitely not lagging either.

“Hey, babe, it’s gonna be okay,” Sans says, voice soothing.

“Yeah,” you mutter, staring at the floor.

“D’you need anything?”

“No, I - Actually, I need to be… alone for a bit. Mind if I steal your room?”

“Go ahead. If you need anything though, just call me over okay?”

You nod numbly and begin climbing the stairs.

  
\------------------------  


Sans listens as your heavy footsteps head up to his room and the door clicks open and shut behind you. He sighs heavily, eyeing the problem now sitting on his couch.

“‘Babe’, huh?” Averia asks, eyeing the shorter skeleton. Not, of course, that he’s any less menacing for being the shorter of the two.

“Look, lady. I’m in a real shitty mood right now and I’m not up to playin’ whatever mind games you’re trying here. Say your piece and scram,” Sans says, letting his magic run loose. It crackles around him, a blue field of irritation.

“You’re aware they’re human, right? You know, same group that murdered most of us? Trapped us under a mountain in an effort to bottle us in and make their job easier? Killed our last king?” she asks, eyeing his magic with an impressed eye.

“[Your name]’s not the one who did that, somebody else did. Over four hundred years ago,” he points out.

“And look at us now, eh? We’re doing so much better down here. Hell, we should write them a thank you letter, tell them how great it is being stuck down here.”

“The fuck is your problem?” Sans growls.

“My problem? My problem? You might as well be dating the human who stuck us down here and you wanna know what my problem is?” Averia growls right back, standing up and drawing herself to her full height.

A quick eye tells him that there’s nothing to worry about. She’s still shaking slightly, and her feet fumble for purchase as she widens her stance. Even better, she’s well aware of this and trying to be menacing by using her height, meaning she’s got next to nothing magic-wise, while he’s full up.

“[Your name] wouldn’t do that, and I don’t really think you’ve got any space to talk, miss LOVE fourteen,” he drawls, annoyingly casual. He dares her to mess with him with his eyes. Give him an excuse to take out this anger on somebody who actually seems to deserve it, come on.

She glares daggers at him for a few moments before a cruel grin twists her face.

“Hey man, you’ve got a point, I don’t have any room to judge. So I’m just gonna mosey my way on over to wherever Toriel and the other danger have gone, get myself out of your way so you can go tend to your little human,” she says, stalking past him and over to the door. “Oh, that’s right, you’ve got a brother, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re not gettin’ anywhere near him,” Sans growls. Gods, just let her leave already, he’s got enough on his plate as is.

“I’m not planning to. But fair warning. When the human goes berserk and kills him, I’m going to be the first to say I told you so,” Averia snarls, slamming the door behind her.

Sans stares after her as she stalks through Snowdin after Toriel. Great, another monster dead set on killing his datemate, just what he needs. For that matter, who the hell is she? He’s definitely never met her before, although somehow her name seems familiar. ‘Course there’re only so many fonts, he supposes somebody must’ve been called Averia before her. Still, he can’t shake the nagging feeling that she should be familiar... It gives him a headache to think about, and he gives up with a sigh. He slumps down onto the sofa and groans into his hands. Why the hell can’t anything just be easy, huh?

  
\------------------------  
  


After making your escape you lean up against the door to Sans’ room, eyes shut tight. You slide down the wall, ending up cross legged on the floor. You run your hand over your face slowly, breathing shakily. You try not to think, just calm down. You’re not sure how long it takes, but you feel marginally better as you bury your head in your hands and sigh.

A small hand on your shoulder jolts you into awareness. Frisk is home and looking at you with concern. You hadn’t even heard them come in.

“Hey kiddo,” you mutter, pasting a smile on your face.

They look at you sadly, mouth turned down in a pouting frown.  Ferrin’s angry, isn’t she? 

Looks like Sans told them what had happened. Either that or they’d overheard, she hadn’t exactly been quiet about it. “Yup. Don’t worry about it, it’s… more common than you’d think.”

But you guys never argued when we were there? 

“Well, our mother was a pretty old fashioned lady. You don’t air your dirty laundry while guests are over, after all,” you say, sighing. You’d really rather not discuss your family. “But we’d worked it out before you guys came to live with us. A few months from now, actually.”

Their bottom lip trembles and you look at them, startled.

“Woah, woah, kiddo, there’s no need to cry! We’re gonna be fine, alright?”

Everybody’s sad  , they sign, tears threatening to fall.  Is it my fault? 

You pull them down to sit in your lap, wrapping your arms around them and allowing them to tuck their head under your chin. The contact helps to ground you as you sweep your concerns aside to focus on Frisk. It’s a more than welcome distraction. They’re breathing shakily, but not full on sobbing yet.

“Kiddo, let me be clear. It’s not your fault that everybody’s sad, and you’re not allowed to blame yourself either…” you trail off as you contemplate how to phrase your thoughts. “You know Frisk, if you were any other kid I’d probably try lying to you, and tell you that everything’s fine. But you’re too smart to fall for it, so I’ll be honest with you. Yeah, things aren’t… so great right now. That’s just how things are sometimes, kiddo.”

But it **is** my fault. 

“Why do you say that?”

Cause I couldn’t save Asriel. And Gaster. And Chara. And no matter what I do Sans is sad, and Alphys never stops blaming herself for the amalgamates, and Toriel’s sad for her kids and Asgore’s sad because Toriel still hates him and his kids are gone, and because I couldn’t save Asriel he reset everything and it’s my fault, it’s all my fault! 

“Frisk, kiddo,” you say, shifting so that you can look them in the eyes. They avoid your gaze until you bring their chin up and their teary eyes lock onto yours. “None of that is your fault.”

How do you know that?  they sign desperately, eyes searching your face for an answer.

 _They’re right, you know. I did something stupid thinking it was a good idea. Me dying wasn’t your fault, and nobody’s expecting you to be able to bring me back to life_ , Chara says suddenly. You hadn’t even noticed them arrive, but you’re glad to hear that they’re there.

“Yup, see? Chara, Asriel and Gaster all died way before you got down here, Frisk. Nobody expects you to do anything about that. And as for the rest of them, well, that’s not on you either. Toriel and Asgore adore you, kiddo. You can’t replace their kids, and they don’t expect you to. You’re you and they want to be your parents because of that, not because you remind them of their children. Alphys… she made some mistakes, and so she feels guilty, and that’s alright. She’s a good person with a gentle soul, and, honestly, would she be someone you’d want to hang out with if she didn’t feel bad for it?”

I guess not…  they say hesitantly. You give them a reassuring grin.

“See? It’s not your fault that Flowey reset either, you know. Yeah, you probably could’ve told Sans about him being down here and being able to reset, but I think we both know that he doesn’t always take things like that well, huh? I get why you wouldn’t want to tell him. Actually, that’s another thing I’m impressed by kiddo. You seem to genuinely like him, even after… well, that.”

They shake their head.  I did bad things, I deserved to be punished. I’m the reason he’s so sad. 

You sigh heavily. “No kiddo, it’s not your fault. Have you ever heard the word depression before? The medical condition kind.”

They shake their head again, confusion crossing their features.

“Well, it’s basically when you’re really, really sad for a long time. It makes you tired, and sometimes when it’s really bad it’ll make you stop trying. Depression makes you think that you’re not worth having around, and it lies to you and tells you that people don’t care even when they do. And generally, it helps when you reach out to people, but depression tells you that you’re not worth it so you smile and pretend like everything’s okay instead.”

Sans is depressed?  they ask, quickly seeing where you’re headed with this.

“Yeah, he is. And it’s nobody’s fault, certainly not yours.”

But then why did it happen? 

“Sorry kiddo, I’m not the right person to be asking that one. It’s some kind of weird chemical thing… well, at least in humans it is.”

Frisk looks at you in confusion and you manage a half smile before ruffling their hair.

“Don’t worry about it, that’s not what you need to be concerned about. You’re not the reason he’s sad, okay? Don’t go blaming yourself for it.”

They still look doubtful, and you cast around for an idea on how to comfort them. A brief scene flashes in front of you -

 

\- _Your brother was staring down at you in fear, eyes wide and tears just beginning to fall. Honestly, he always blamed himself when you did stupid things. Like fall out of the garden trees that at least five people, including your new mother and father, Gerson, one of the guards, and your brother himself had told you not to climb._

_“Chara, are you…. gonna be okay?” he asked._

_Geez, it’s a tiny scrape, he needs to calm down. Not like it’s the first time he’s seen you bleed, you’re not really known for making safe choices._

_“Of course I am, you idiot,” you responded, rolling your eyes._

_“B-b-but,” he said, staring down at your dripping knee in fear, lip trembling. Crap, he’s really gonna cry over this? He shouldn’t be worrying about you… You don’t deserve it._

_“Hey, Azzy, it’s okay, I promise,” you said, attempting to placate him._

_“R-really?”_

_“Yeah,” you said, holding your hand out, tiny and already scarred, tough calluses on the pads of your fingers that you’re proud of, imagining that they bring you just a bit closer to being like your new family. Your pinky finger extended towards Asriel, who looked at you in confusion._

_“It’s a pinky promise,” you said, rolling your eyes again. “Here.”_

_You grabbed his hand, pulling his fingers until they mirrored yours, then locked your pinkies together._

_“See? Now I’ve pinkie promised you that I’m gonna be fine and I can never, ever break my promise,” you said, voice solemn. Pinkie promises are serious business._

_“Do you mean it?” Asriel asked._

_“Of course I do, silly.”_

_“Then promise me that we’re gonna be together forever!” he said enthusiastically._ -

 

The images cut off abruptly, leaving you a bit stunned. Was that… Well, that’s for another day.

‘Thank you, Chara,’ you think before turning back to Frisk.

“Alright Frisk, here’s how this is gonna go. You’re gonna make me a pinky promise that you’ll stop blaming yourself for all of these things,” you say in as serious a tone as you can manage.

Frisk contemplates your outstretched finger for a moment before looking back at you.  I’ll do it… But only if you make me a promise too. 

“Fine, I promise to make you pancakes tomorrow,” you say, sighing in mock defeat.

They almost laugh, face brightening for a moment before becoming serious again.  No, not that. Promise me that you’re gonna talk to your sister and apologize. 

“I already apologized kiddo. She.. didn’t want to hear it,” you say, sighing.

Then tell her the truth. 

You snort. “Kiddo, you and Sans have the highest weirdness tolerance of anybody I’ve ever met. Just ‘cause you two have gotten over the fact that you’re the basis for characters in a video game and I was summoned here by a guy that doesn’t exist using my memories of a past timeline that only five people remember doesn’t mean that she will. She’d probably think I’ve gone insane.” Honestly, you’re not sure that she’d be wrong.

Ferrin loves you  , they sign confidently.  Just tell her the truth. Sans always gets in trouble with Papyrus for not telling the truth, and they always make up when Sans is honest. So that’s what you’ve gotta do too! 

“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to try,” you admit. Maybe if you tried to cut out the strangest parts, just give her what she needs to know…

Good!   they sign, wrapping your forgotten finger in their own.  It’s a promise, now you’ve gotta do it! 

“Oh yeah? Who’s gonna make me, huh?”

The pinky promise monster, duh. 

“Uh huh? How’re they gonna do that?”

They sneak up on you in the middle of the night and tickle you to death! Then they steal your shoes and hide them so you can’t find them in the morning! 

“Oh, no! Well, I’ll just have to keep my promise then, won’t I?”

Yup! 

You feel the corners of your mouth twist upwards and realize that you actually feel a bit better. If the world’s determined to pile a million things on your shoulders you can rest easy knowing that you’ve got people around who care about you.

“So kiddo, think we should head downstairs? Sans’ probably getting worried about us,” you say.

Frisk peeks up at you from under their eyelashes and you can already feel yourself agreeing to whatever they’re going to ask. Darn it, this kid has you wrapped around their finger.

Can we still have pancakes though? 

You really do laugh then, scooping them up and putting them on your shoulders. “Sure thing Frisk, I’ll make you some pancakes. Extra spaghetti, right?”

Frisk’s sound of disgust makes you laugh again. You open the door and find Sans leaning up against the wall.

“Sounds like things are cooling down,” he says, expression full of concern.

“You know, I honestly can’t tell if you’re deliberately making awful puns or if they just slip out and you roll with it,” you say, grinning. It’s a bit strained, but Sans seems glad to see it. He knows that you’re not at one hundred percent, but seeing you trying means he knows you’re not giving up.

Yeah, things aren’t the best, but you fixed it once and hell and high water won’t prevent you from doing it again.

  
Odd as it is, you’re filled with determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm no psychologist, but I've got a lot of firsthand experience with depression, in others and myself. And yeah, I know it's not a good idea to out other people unless you've got a really good reason, but in this case we're gonna allow it. Frisk already knows there's a problem, they just don't have a word for it. Or, well, that's my reasoning. Hopefully nobody minds.
> 
> A commenter pointed out that they hadn't known that Averia is a font, so just in case that up there didn't make it clear, yes, Averia is a font name. Or part of one, the whole thing being Averia Serif Libre. It's not a well-known or incredibly unique font like Comic Sans or Wingdings, but it is a font.
> 
> Some of you may be asking why I did this. The answer is quite simple. 
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> This story is a journey, and we've just rewound to before it even started. Of course things are going to be different. 
> 
> Hopefully I'll have a new chapter up by the end of this weekend, but no promises. Pretty sure my math professor is literally the devil, so I've got a boatload of math work.


	38. Lost And Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait everybody, but here we are! This chapter almost ended up being three or four different chapters before I settled on this, I just hope that you all enjoy it!
> 
> As always, my ever-patient beta reader is [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/) .
> 
> You can find me here at [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/) , and I love hearing from you guys, so please contact me there! (Or scream at me about not writing faster, that is also an acceptable means of communication haha.)
> 
> (My beta is busy right now, so this isn't beta read just yet, I'll make sure to edit it as soon as she can give me feedback. I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer, hopefully the things I've missed won't detract too much from the story!)

Honestly, screaming wasn’t where she’d expected this to go. Sucker punching her sibling? That had been even lower on her list of possible outcomes, but she’d just gotten so angry when she’d seen them. Prior to having a visual confirmation, her stomach had still been churning with anxiety and fear on her sibling’s behalf, but once she’d actually caught sight of them there was nothing but rage, white hot and boiling in her veins. How dare they? How dare they look shocked and scared for her when the entire fucking reason she was here was to save their stupid ass? How dare they pretend like nothing was wrong when they decided to head to a mountain full of potential danger? How dare they leave her with so many goddamn questions -

Alright, maybe this hadn’t been the unexpected end result after all.

Expected or otherwise, she’s yelling now, spewing any and everything that comes to mind that will hurt them like they’ve hurt her.

“Ferrin!” her sibling shouts, breaking into her hysterical rant.

“WHAT?!”

“I wouldn't - I don't - You're wrong,” you say, voice pleading with her to listen, to accept that she belongs under her sibling’s paranoid protection, but she can't take it anymore -

 

_ Staring at the television in horrified shock, the phone she'd been clutching like a lifeline dropping from numb fingers as the news rehashed a story already two weeks old, a story she hasn't heard because her sibling had kept this from her. Once again, you were trying to protect her. _

 

_ “The injured party has made a statement that they are intending to press criminal charges on the famous author. Mr. Young’s lawyer states that-” the news anchor said just before Ferrin's fumbling fingers found the power button and turned the damned thing off. _ -

 

“Oh, really? Explain yourself then, for once! Give me a straight answer!” she finds herself saying as the memory nearly chokes her.

“I already told you that I can't, alright?” you say, refusing to meet her eyes, and she feels anger surge through her, rising hot and thick in her throat.

“Fine. Fine, yeah, go ahead. You’ve already proven that you don’t trust me, not like I was expecting anything else from you.”

She whips around, unable to even look at you. She knows she's allowing the anger to control her, saying things that she probably shouldn't, but this is just too much. Without her consent more words tear their way from her lips, ones she knows will strike you to the core.

“But don’t you dare talk to me until you’re ready to treat me like a real person. I’m sick of the lies, [your name]. I’m sick of not being able to believe you, and wondering what you’re hiding from me.”

The anger fades just enough that she can feel the regret and sorrow underneath.

“I’m sick of all of this,” she says to herself, not sure if you can hear.

If you did, you give no indication as she flees the town. 

She starts off walking, but as her thoughts and emotions start trying to catch up to her she feels her feet moving faster until she’s sprinting at full speed. Trees whip past, set far enough apart that they’re relatively easy to dodge; luckily for her, as she has no intent of stopping. She has no idea how long she manages to run through the forest before her burning lungs force her to stop for air, but the way that her knees fall out from under her like boiled spaghetti tells her it’s been a while.

Panting and covered in fast chilling sweat, she decides this is far enough for you to get the message and brings her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly. She buries her face in her knees and groans loudly. 

She'd been so happy when she'd seen you, finally getting to see with her own eyes that you were okay. But she'd been expecting you to be… she isn’t sure. More apologetic? Instead you were walking next to another skeleton monster who you seemed awfully buddy - buddy with. How the hell was she supposed to react to that? 

Her guilty conscience pokes at her and she groans aloud. “Alright, alright, I know! I reacted badly, they just want to protect me, blah blah blah. But I just hate being lied to!”

When no one responds by calling her out for shouting at nothing, she realizes she’s alone. Well and alone, with no one here to hear her shout angrily at nothing.

“And you know what else? I really don't like how chummy they were acting with that skeleton guy!” she says, testing the words to decide how they feel and deciding that yes, that's accurate. Her anger at her sibling helps erase the guilt of having already forgotten the skeleton's name, not that it's much of a surprise considering how distracted she'd been when he'd introduced himself.

“And another thing, how the heck did they even know to get down here, huh?” she asks, irritated. She doesn't realize that her ramblings have attracted the attention of someone else, her own voice too loud in her ears for her to notice. “I mean, who suddenly decides ‘You know what? I'm gonna climb this fucking mountain! Everybody else who's gone up here has died but nah, I'm gonna be fine because I'm [your name] and everybody knows I'm fucking indestructible!’ I mean, what the heck is going on?! Why are they here? How are they here? Did Averia just decide she didn't like my face and decide to kill me even though she left them alone? Who puts a bunch of monsters into a hole in the ground anyways? I mean honestly who the heck thought that was a good idea? And why is it that some of these people feels so damn familiar? I swear I’ve met Toriel before, I feel like I know her. And that other skeleton, he looked familiar too…” 

She trails off as she contemplates that. Why the heck does Toriel feel so familiar? She'd only met her yesterday but she'd instantly wanted to trust her even then. Honestly, she's not even as afraid as she thinks she probably should be of what seem to be self labeled monsters. She should be terrified… right?

“Jesus Christ, everything's so confusing,” she growls, burying her head in her knees. 

The still undetected presence is moving to come out from behind its temporary cover when it's shocked by a sudden shout of frustration from the human figure in front of it. It instead stumbles backward, creating enough noise that it would have tipped off Ferrin to its presence had she not been trying to drown out her own thoughts with sheer volume. She runs out of the manic energy that had caused her to cry out in the first place not long before she would have run out of air and the sound trails off, leaving the clearing in silence. She sits there, wondering how long it'll take for Toriel or her irritable skeleton guard to find her. She's almost entirely sure that you won't come after her, knowing she'd still be angry. The skeleton whose name she's managed to forget probably wouldn't go look for her either. Hopefully. She gets the feeling she'd start yelling at him as a substitute for you if he does.

She hears snow crunching under careful footsteps and curses internally. Of course someone had heard her. Couldn’t they tell that she didn’t want company?

Apparently not, because the sounds stop just in front of her.

“Um,” a voice says in front of her, unmistakably male and unmistakably familiar. Great. More confusion.

“What?” she snaps, not bothering to raise her head, “Never seen anyone scream at a tree?”

“Uh, well, no, I regretfully admit that I have not,” the voice says. “Is there perhaps something wrong?”

“Nah man, I’m stuck under a giant fucking mountain, everything’s just peachy. Although, I mean, you’ve probably been stuck under here for longer than I have, guess I shouldn’t be complaining about that one,” she sighs, the last of her anger fading, leaving what feels like a five ton stone settling in her stomach. God, she hates being angry. It always leaves her feeling disgusting.

“I surely cannot be that much older than you!” Does this guy not have an indoor voice? Also, that should be really damn annoying, right? So why does it feel relaxing?

“No idea dude. But I’ve only been down here for a day and a half, so you’ve beat me unless you were born today.”

“I must certainly was not! Are you saying that you were born only yesterday?”

“No…? I- ”

“That must mean that it is awfully easy to trick you!”

“Uh?”

“Oh, I- My brother, he always uses humor and so I thought- Um, I am not very… You know, people say that they were not born yesterday…?” the voice says hopefully, almost like it doesn’t want to disappoint her.

She snorts loudly. “Oh my god, that was awful. I almost feel better, at least my situation can't get any worse than that joke.”

“I shall take that as a compliment!”

She actually laughs at that, cheered up against her will. He must be really trying to cheer her up, huh? He never makes jokes. Not that there’s any way she should know that. “I actually do feel better, thank you.”

“Are you perhaps planning on looking at me then? I cannot greet a new friend properly if I cannot see their face after all!” they say, voice filled with excitement and, unless she’s much mistaken, worry.

She sighs and raises her head, eyes searching for the person who was trying to cheer her up. Somehow the first thing that she notices is a large reddish orange object with long white somethings extending from it. That probably has something to do with the fact that these things are less than an inch from her nose, causing her to go slightly cross-eyed while trying to look at them.

“Hello! I am the Great- “ the voice cuts off with a strangled noise.

She scowls as she registers the thin white objects attached to the over large red gloves for what they are. All things considered, she's really not getting the warm fuzzies from skeleton monsters right now, no matter how weirdly familiar they feel.

Her gaze follows along his exposed arm bones to what looks like a homemade cosplay - albeit an exceptionally well made one - and finally comes to rest on his face. She barely registers her mouth falling open, her expression shifting to match his bug-eyed, shocked look as something flashes in the back of her mind, ushering in a headache.

 

_ \- Her sibling’s pleading face as she’d cheered him on in their kitchen. It’s just a brief flash but she already knows that the entire room is splattered with produce juices, boiling water overflowing on the stove. Someone is screaming alongside her in excitement. _

 

_ “Do it! Show that tomato who’s boss, P- !”  _

 

_ “Ferrin, stop encouraging them!” you were shouting, trying to save the water boiling on the stove. _ -

 

Even once the brief flash of memory ends, she’s so busy being shocked that it takes her several long moments to realize that the skeleton is staring at her just as she’s staring at him. That was… something?

“Did you…?” he asks, as though hoping she’ll confirm whatever it is that he saw.

“I… maybe? There were tomatoes, and we were at my house, and there was some fish lady and a kid and my sibling, and… that short skeleton-”

“Sans,” he confirms.

“-from the town over there, he was there too, and… you….” she trails off uncertainly.

“Your sibling said ‘Ferrin, don’t encourage them?’?” he asks as though he’s hoping she’ll say no.

She swallows thickly. “Y-yeah. And I was shouting something about ‘Do it! Show that tomato who’s boss, Papyrus!’?”

He stares at her with his face full of worried confusion, and her head twinges painfully, something shifting in her brain, trying to make itself known. She’s not sure whether to embrace the images flashing through her head or try to shove them away.

“What is going on?” Papyrus asks.

“I’m not sure,” she admits. “But I think… we were - I mean, are, friends?”

“I think that may be the case,” he says, nodding as he regains his confidence. “After all, who would not want to be my friend? It is good to meet you, well, meet you yet again, because obviously we have met each other before now, but that is not the point! It is very good to see you, my dear friend!”

“I… Yeah, likewise, Papyrus,” she says, grinning.

When his expression shifts to one of contemplation and discomfort, she feels obliged to ask, “Is something wrong?”

“No, not at… Well… Perhaps?”

“You can tell me, you know?

“I am… putting things together and disliking the resulting image,” he confesses.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… My brother is not a naturally trusting person,” Papyrus admits, beginning to pace. “So I thought it very strange when he invited your sibling and Frisk to lodge with us, although I said nothing. They also seem very close, I have caught them platonically cuddling on the couch several times!”

“Uh, platonic cuddling?”

“Yes! It is when you act like you’re dating the other person by being physically close and hugging but it is, in fact, platonic! However, I suspect that Sans may have been lying to me when he said that.”

“Probably,” Ferrin agrees. “So they seem too close is what you’re saying?”

“That is precisely it!”

“I kinda got the same feeling…. But wait, you don’t mean…?”

Papyrus nods solemnly, cape flying behind him as he points at her dramatically. “Precisely! I believe that our siblings may, in fact, have knowledge of the strange phenomena that we have just experienced! We must confront them immediately!”

With this he grabs her arm, dragging her behind him as he walks swiftly towards the path. She follows willingly, thinking the situation over. Something’s up, that’s for sure.

“Hello? Ferrin? Where are you, please respond?” Toriels warm voice calls from nearby, startling her out of her thoughts. From the way Papyrus jumps, it’s apparent that he was lost in thought as well.

“Toriel, that you?” she calls back, both of them pausing as they wait for Toriel to find them. The goat monster calls back just before striding into view from the right, snow clumped into her fur, the hem of her dress soaked. She looks more concerned than irritated, raising her hands to her mouth to call once more.

“Hey Toriel,” Ferrin says cheerfully.

“Oh! Ferrin! Child, where have you been? Your friend pointed me in your direction and I could not find you!”

“My… friend?”

“Yes! That strangely shaped monster, oh dear, what was his name… John? James? Jerald? No, no that is not right….”

“Are you perhaps referring to Jerry?” Papyrus asks.

“Why yes, I believe that was his name! How unkind of me, he did attempt to help. Even if he was incorrect I should have remembered his name.”

“Uh, Toriel, where’d he tell you to go? ‘Cause it looks like you’re coming from the opposite direction of where I went,” Ferrin points out.

“He was very vague, but it was off that way,” Toriel says, indicating the direction she had come from. “Why do you ask?”

“Uh, sounds like he either pretended to know the direction or deliberately mislead you,” Ferrin says.

“Well… perhaps. He did not seem very trustworthy, but he was my only lead… Did this young man help you?”

“Yeah, he did,” Ferrin says, glancing back at a rather confused Papyrus. “This is my friend Papyrus, he’s one of the sentries around here. He’s also Sans’ brother so he agreed to take me back to Snowdin.”

“Ah, fantastic! We are going to the same place then,” Toriel says.

The three of them continue onward towards Snowdin, pausing only when Papyrus slows to a stop in front of a few piles of snow and glowing blue X’s.

“What’s that?” she asks, gesturing towards the mystery objects.

“One of my very famous puzzles!” Papyrus brags. “However, I do not expect that you would want to solve one, so I should-”

“Are you kidding? Scoot over, I’m gonna solve this sucker,” Ferrin declares, studying the puzzle. 

With only two switches it’s relatively obvious what to do, but she pretends to think it over for several minutes before stepping on one and going around to step on the other. She cheers loudly as the spikes fall that were blocking the path, and decides not to mention that anyone really determined to ignore the puzzle/trap could easily walk through the woods beside it as she had previously.

“You may have bested me this time, human, but you shall not pass my next ingenious puzzle!” Papyrus declares, ushering them forward.

The next one does, admittedly, take a bit more time. With a bird’s eye view of the thing it might be simpler, but Ferrin has to deliberately get it wrong the first time to explore the puzzle and see where all of the X’s are placed. After that it’s a simple matter of figuring out a pattern that allows her to trigger all of them without stepping on any twice. A few tries later she stands triumphantly as the blockade falls, hand on hip.

“I, the Great Ferrin, have conquered this puzzle!” she declares, grinning at Papyrus. Instead of being sullen over her figuring out his puzzle, he seems delighted.

“Nyeh heh heh!” he says, mimicking her dramatic pose, “You have yet to see my true masterpiece! Do not get cocky yet, human, for I shall capt- er, befuddle you yet!”

 

\-  _ They’re in the woods next to her house in these exact same poses, and she’s just managed to dodge an entire round of bone attacks from Papyrus for the first time. She breaks the pose to jump and cheer as loudly as she can, her sibling making a half-hearted fist pump from the sidelines as they say something to a grinning Sans. _ -

 

She ignores the rising headache and laughs, saying, “More puzzles? Dang Paps, you’re gonna spoil me.”

The nickname slips out before she can think better of it, but Papyrus just grins and declares, “I am so glad that you enjoy puzzles as well, Ferrin! We shall have such fun!”

They cross over a checkerboard of grey squares, Toriel watching them affectionately, occasionally adding to the conversation but mostly letting the two of them talk. Ferrin can feel her headache building, little flashes of what must be memories surfacing.

 

\-  _ Racing Papyrus through the forest and failing miserably but ending up laughing anyways. _ -

 

\-   _ Watching him train with that blue woman _ \- Undyne, something whispers in the corner of her mind - ,  _ dodging the spears raining down with his signature laughter, a bone staff in hand. _ -

 

\-  _ On the couch sandwiched between you and Papyrus, Sans’ arm slung across your shoulders, Undyne flinging popcorn into the air as a yellow dinosaur woman _ \- Alphys, her name is Alphys she remembers - _ jumps up and down on the couch cushion, both of them screaming at the blonde haired man and brown haired girl kissing on-screen. You’re laughing and saying that you’re glad this anime finally got a second season, shouting to be heard over the excited sounds from the couple beside you. _ -

 

\-  _ The two of them standing companionably in front of a darkening sky, the lights from the town below slowly blinking out underneath their vantage point. _ -

 

Papyrus looks nearly as pained as she does, and she gets the feeling that memories are assaulting him every other step just like they are her. Despite the near blinding headache she approaches what Papyrus promises will be the last puzzle with enthusiasm. She slides across the ice and comes to a stop on one of the blue X’s just fine, but slips when she goes to turn to look at her options, sliding across the puzzle and off the side before she has the chance to stop herself. She doesn’t even get a chance to shriek before she lands heavily in a pile of snow. A quick check tells her that she’s fine, no broken bones or scratches. Heck, she’s not even sure that she’s going to get bruises from that fall. She heaves herself to her feet and looks up at the overhang above her. She can hear frantic voices from above.

“I’m fine! I landed on a bunch of snow,” Ferrin shouts, hoping that her companions can hear her.

“Oh, thank goodness! Are you very sure nothing is broken?” Toriel’s voice shouts back.

“Yeah, everything’s moving just fine. How do I get out of here?”

“That is good to hear! Papyrus is on his way down now to guide you, everything will be fine. I am afraid that this old body of mine is best staying up here, so I will be waiting,” Toriel says.

“Gotcha, we’ll be back up in a sec!” Ferrin calls, then looks around the clearing. The exit is pretty obvious now that she’s looking for it, but she decides to wait for Papyrus to show up. No need to go disappearing without him. Further inspection reveals that she’s not the only thing in the clearing, as a rather impressive snow sculpture is standing only a few feet away. Unless she’s much mistaken… is that supposed to be Papyrus? With muscles?

The skeleton himself dashes into the clearing as she studies the snowman, spraying snow behind him. “FERRIN! Are you unharmed?!”

“Yeah Paps, I’m fine,” she says, laughing. “I’m up and walking aren’t I?”

“Oh thank stars,” Papyrus says, sighing heavily in relief. “I was very worried! I had forgotten to warn you that the puzzle could potentially harm you.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Plus, I’ve got this super cool snowdude to keep me company,” she says.

Papyrus lights up and says, “Why, thank you! I made it in my own likeness! An uncanny resemblance, no?”

Ferrin laughs. “Sure, why not. When did you make it?”

“Sans and I were here a week or so ago, and I convinced him to build snowmen with me! His sculpture is far less impressive than my own, however!”

“Where is it?” she asks, looking around. The only other thing in the small clearing is a pile of snow beside Papyrus’ work.

Papyrus rolls his eyes and gestures to the snow pile in exasperation. A closer inspection has her laughing as she notices the messy scrawl across its front.

“Oh my god, is that-”

“Ketchup, yes,” Papyrus sighs.

“That's priceless!” she wheezes, tears of mirth in her eyes.

“Yes, it was, the first time!” Papyrus says, exasperated. “The second is was still laugh worthy, and even the third was mildly amusing, but one can only take so many snow piles before one gets rather annoyed with one's brother for not putting in just a little more effort!”

Ferrin looks at the snow pile in amusement. “Sorry dude, it's still pretty funny.”

“Maybe. Just a little,” Papyrus grumbles, then brightens almost instantly. “Would you perhaps like to build a snowman with me? Or we could have a snowman building contest, but I must warn you that I am the best snow craftsman in all of the underground! Nyeh heh heh heh!”

The sound of his laughter brings another twinge of pain to her head, but -luckily? unluckily? - doesn't spark another memory.

“I'd love to, but maybe some other time?” she suggests. Seeing him deflate, she hurries to say, “No, really! I want to make snowmen with you, that sounds like a lot of fun. But I'm kinda freezing, Toriel’s waiting for us, and if you're right then hopefully Sans can explain these weird flashback things so I'd kinda rather get back to your place and figure out what he knows.”

“Sans may be a lazybones, but he is very smart! If anyone will know what is going on here, it is him!” Papyrus says cheerfully. 

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of faith in him,” Ferrin comments.

“But of course! Despite all of his flaws, I love my brother very much. I imagine it must be the same for you?” he asks, and both of them have the uneasy feeling that they’ve had this conversation before.

“Yeah, of course I do, I just wish they'd stop babying me, you know?” she says, sounding out the words that present themselves to her.

A spark of something lights in their minds and they finish the conversation haltingly, speaking together. 

“Perhaps that is just what older siblings do. At the least we know that they care, do we not?”

The headache builds to blinking proportions as another scene blindsides her, sweeping her away with it. As she brings her hands to her head she can see Papyrus doing the same, his face creasing in pain as -

 

_ The two of them are standing beside the guardrail of a cliff overlooking the entire town of Grenswood, watching as the lights go out one by one. Night has long since fallen, the fading light of the sun slipping under the distant horizon in a colorful display that Papyrus couldn't seem to get enough of. The rest of the valley stretched out before them, the mountains to their backs curving gently to cup the very edges of the town, marked by the few remaining artificial lights. In the distance, just barely visible, skyscrapers from the next town over pierce the night sky.  _

_ “Peaceful, isn't it?” she asked, breaking the companionable silence between them. _

_ “Absolutely stunning,” he responded, voice still louder than hers, but relatively quiet for once. She'd asked him why a while back and he'd revealed that he has no problem whatsoever hearing, but can't seem to register his own volume. He's always quick to apologize when she asks him to be a bit quieter to spare her eardrums though. _

_ “Sorry about [your name],” she added as an afterthought. _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “You know, when we were leaving the house and she asked where we were headed? Kinda embarrassing,” she said, chuckling. “Twenty four is way too old to have your sibling keep such a close eye on you after all.” _

_ “Bah! You should hear my brother, he is just as bad if not worse!” Papyrus declared. “Why, when we moved in with you he tried to convince me to wait a week before I moved in so that he could ensure my safety! As though the great Papyrus could not protect himself!” _

_ “Oh my god, really? I’m sure I’ve got something worse… Ah-hah! One time they found out that a guy who I'd spoken to like, twice, was trying to use me to get close to them and they went and beat him up. Then they tried to keep me busy so I wouldn't find out! Worked for two whole weeks too.” _

_ “When we were little, my brother utterly terrified a group of children because they had teased me once. None of them could look me in the eye sockets for weeks afterward, and they would only refer to me as ‘the greatest Papyrus’ for years afterward. They were not wrong, I am very great, but something tells me it had more to do with Sans than my own merit.” _

_ “You sure we're talking about the same Sans?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. _

_ “Oh yes, another pet peeve of mine! My brother is incredibly powerful, and yet so few know of it! He can teleport, do you know that?” _

_ “That… actually explains a lot.” _

_ “Precisely! What I do not understand is why he hides it!” _

_ “Your guess is as good as mine,” she replied, laughing. “Dang though, never would've guessed that's how he's always managing to sneak up on everybody. Think he'd show me sometime?” _

_ “He would probably make up an excuse, or brush it off with a pun,” Papyrus sighed. _

_ “Oh well. It's not like my sibling doesn't do the same thing,” Ferrin said. _

_ “WOWIE, THEY CAN TELEPORT?!” Papyrus exclaimed, gaping at her. _

_ “No, sorry. I mean the whole ‘I'm going to hide things from everybody’ thing that they do. I'd be willing to bet that you have no idea that they're a famous author, right?” _

_ “I am friends with a famous author?” _

_ “Yup.” _

_ “Wowie! That's so- Oh! But then I have been a very poor friend! I have never read their books! I must rectify this immediately!” _

_ “They've been a poor friend by not telling anybody about it,” Ferrin grumbled. _

_ The two of them fell silent, staring out across the horizon. There were only a few lights left on here and there, bright dots peppering the earth and mirroring those strewn across the sky. _

_ “I do not think that your sibling meant any harm by keeping secrets,” Papyrus said. _

_ “You don't have to defend them, I know. They're just trying to protect me. And if I'm honest it's kinda nice, you know? It means that they care. Does that make sense?” _

_ “But of course! Despite all of his flaws, I love my brother very much, and I know he feels the same. I imagine it must be the same for you?” he asked. _

_ “Yeah, of course I do, I just wish they'd stop babying me, you know?” _

_ “Perhaps that is just what older siblings do. At the least we know that they care, do we not?” _

_ “Fair enough.” _ -

  
  


“Holy shit,” Ferrin whispers, staggering. “That was…”

“Owie,” Papyrus says, hand to his head.

“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” Ferrin groans, rubbing at her temples. “That’s the longest one yet.”

“Yes, it was…” Papyrus says, trailing off with a distant look on his face.

“Something up?”

“No, no… I just… Is the sky really that beautiful?” Papyrus asks quietly.

“Oh yeah, it’s gorgeous. You only saw the sunset, you should see a sunrise, it’s a completely different experience, it’s amazing. Oh, and an eclipse, you’d love that! Or the way the sun shines through the clouds just as a storm ends….” Ferrin trails off, realizing that this is probably really depressing for the skeleton who’s lived his entire life underground. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t mean to-”

“Do not apologize! I should be thanking you, for telling me about it!”

“Uh, sorry, why?”

“Because it has only made me more determined to see these sights for myself, even if I have already, somehow, seen them! Ferrin, when we get aboveground the two of us are going to go see the sky!”

Ferrin laughs, saying, “Hell yeah! We’re gonna show you the sky Papyrus! And then we’re gonna go to the ocean, and get foreign food, and go to far away countries, and everything else you can’t do down here! We’re gonna see everything this dang world has to offer, alright?”

Papyrus clasps her outstretched hand, shaking it firmly. “It is a deal! We shall do all of that, and more!”

“Definitely! Is there anything you’d like to see? I mean, there must be-”

“Hello? Ferrin, Papyrus, are you two alright? Should I come down there?” Toriel calls worriedly.

“Oh shoot. No, we’re fine!” Ferrin shouts back, “We just found a super cool snow sculpture, we’re on our way back up now.”

 

The final leg of their trip is relatively short and as puzzle free as promised. The three of them catch sight of Averia as they round the corner to the bridge into Snowdin. She’s sitting again, leaning up against a tree near the bridge with her eye sockets closed. As the group comes closer, her eyes snap open and the lights in them focus in on Ferrin. By the time they’re close enough to speak without shouting, she’s on her feet and moving towards them.

“You found her,” she comments, studying Ferrin. “And dust free too, who would’ve guessed.”

“That was incredibly rude!” Papyrus says, shocked. “My friend would do no such thing!”

Averia eyes him irritably but doesn’t say anything in response.

“If you thought I was going on a murder spree, why did you hang out here?” Ferrin asks, already used to the skeleton monster’s accusations.

“Couple of the Sentries said they’d keep an eye out for you. Figured you’d be smarter than to try anything with them out there. And if you weren’t, they said there’s only one easy way into Waterfall unless you’re an aquatic monster,” she says, shrugging. “Besides, according to them the new Captain is more than fit to handle you if anything does go wrong.”

Papyrus visibly flinches at the mention of the Captain, and Ferrin looks at him with concern. He shakes his head just enough for her to see that he doesn’t want to talk about it right now. If either of their other companions notice, they said nothing. 

By silent mutual agreement they all resume walking towards Snowdin. Ferrin takes a moment to notice the bridge might not actually be a bridge, but some kind of natural outcropping. There’s what appears to be peeling paint in some spots, revealing stone underneath. She decides not to question it, just adding it to the growing list of things that are super weird down here.

“So,” she says as they walk past the bar labeled Grillby’s, “I kind of need to talk to my sibling. Privately.”

“Of course, dear. Would you like us to leave you alone?” Toriel offers kindly.

“That would be great, thank you,” Ferrin says.

“Right, because I’m going to leave you by yourself to wreck havoc in a town,” Averia scoffs. “You need a guard to keep you in line.”

“I could be her guard?” Papyrus suggests.

“You’re obviously just as smitten with your human as your brother is with his,” Averia growls. “I’m sure you call her pet names too. You’re not suited to be her guard.”

“Uh, we’re not dating?” Ferrin says, confused. A glance at Papyrus confirms that he’s just as lost as she is.

“Uh huh. Either way, I can’t trust you to stop her if she decides to go on a murder spree, you’re biased.”

“I am very unbiased!” Papyrus argues. “While I do not believe that my human friend would cause anyone harm, if she did I am more than capable of stopping her! I am, after all, a Royal Sentry!”

He poses dramatically, obviously very proud of himself. Averia eyes him, a flicker of what might have been amusement crossing her face.

“So you think you’ve got what it takes to handle a human, huh kid?” she asks.

“Why of course! I am the Great Papyrus after all! It is not a title earned by those who do not deserve it!”

Toriel interrupts, saying, “I believe we can leave them to their own devices, can we not? We will be only a few yards away, at the inn.”

“So you’re willing to risk monster’s lives on the word of a human?” Averia asks, skeptical.

Toriel sighs heavily. “Yes, and you would be too if you would only ignore your personal prejudices.”

“‘Personal prejudices’, huh? Wasn’t aware that those applied to people dying,” Averia says, tone light but face full of anger.

“I will not have this argument with you again,” Toriel declares. “Papyrus and Sans will not allow the humans to cause any harm. By the stars, you would think that the fact that no one has been harmed for the past week that these humans have been underground would be good enough for you.”

“Just because nothing has happened, doesn’t mean that nothing will!”

“And what are you going to do if they do decide to kill, exactly? Provide them with free EXP? You are in no condition to be up and about, much less fighting, and we all know it.”

“I can still fight,” Averia argues.

“No, you cannot. You are going to undo all of the work that I have put into healing you if you insist on behaving so recklessly, and I am having none of it. Now, follow me into the inn and perhaps we can do something to help you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Uh, dude, no offence, but you’re kinda shaking,” Ferrin points out. It’s subtle but definitely there.

Averia makes an irritated noise, although it must be just as obvious to her that she’s incapable of doing much as it is to everyone else. Maybe she just doesn’t want to admit that the situation is out of her control. “Alright, whatever, if someone dies it’s on your head Toriel.”

Toriel lets out a soft sigh of relief. “That is fine as long as we are done with this conversation. Come now, we have work to do if we are to heal you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Toriel and Averia begin walking over to the inn, and Papyrus and Ferrin start making their way to the skeleton brother’s house. A shout from behind them makes them both turn around to find Averia walking up to them.

“What, change your mind? Going to stalk me anyways?” Ferrin asks.

“Papyrus,” Averia says, ignoring Ferrin entirely, “You know the Captain of the Royal Guard, right?”

“I- Yes, I do, why do you ask?”

“What’re they like?”

“Undyne is very strong! And easily angered,” Papyrus says sadly. “She is one of my best… I mean, we train together often! She can suplex entire boulders!”

“Suplex? No, nevermind. What does she use to fight?”

“Spears, mostly. She is also very adept at green magic,” Papyrus offers.

“Spears and green magic, got it. Thanks kid,” Averia says, turning to walk away.

“Wait! Why’re you asking about her?” Ferrin asks, confused.

“Idle curiosity,” Averia says without turning around.

“Bullshit,” Ferrin mutters, staring after her. “There’s no way she was just curious about her replacement on the Guard.”

“Perhaps she wants her old position back?” Papyrus asks. “She was the previous Captain, yes?”

“I mean, I guess? Not gonna get anywhere wondering though. You ready for this?” she asks, gesturing towards the house.   
“No, but I suppose that I will have to be,” Papyrus says, fixing a determined stare at his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other candidates for the 'You should forgive your sibling' speech: Toriel, Chara, the Nice Cream vendor, and Flowey. Hey, I meant it when I said this chapter almost went in a very different direction. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter, and since I'm on spring break I'm hoping to be able to get a lot of writing done. I've got at least half of the next chapter done, as well as a lot of work done on a short(er) story that may or may not be part of the prequel canon (the prequel is officially named Crimes of the Past, or COTP). It's been a lot of fun to write so of course I'll be up obscenely late working on it haha.
> 
> Ah well, either way I should have quite a bit of new content up this week, I look forward to it and I hope you do too!


	39. Poking Sleeping Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finally get to release chapters that don't take a whole week to write, and you all get more fluff and my attempts at humor, right before things go places.   
> Yeah.   
> Places.
> 
> Beta Reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Tumblr: [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

The knock on the door surprises you out of your slump. You take a sip of your coffee as Sans goes to open the door, assuming it must be Toriel here to report back that your sister is safe and uninterested in speaking with you. Not, of course, that you'd blame her for it.

Instead you hear a loud voice say, “I have captured the human’s friendship, brother!”

“I can see that bro,” Sans replies cautiously. “But, uh, kinda figured ya wouldn't be comin’ straight back here Ferrin. Can I pass on a message for ya?”

“Nope, sorry,” Ferrin replies cheerfully, “I need to talk to my sib. They're still here, right?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen, but- Well, okay, that works,” Sans says, disgruntled. A moment later you see why as Ferrin walks into the kitchen. 

She looks cheerful, like she hadn’t screamed at you a little while ago. You, on the other hand, most assuredly look like you've been crying. She at least has the conscience to feel guilty when she sees your face. 

“Hey, so, uh, I was kind of a bitch and so I'm sorry about that,” she says, rocking back on her heels, “But I meant it when I said the lying has to stop, alright?”

“Fer, I'm sorry, I just… I didn't want you down here,” you croak.

“I know. But your lies are getting out of control dude.”

You nod miserably. “I'll work on it, I swear.”

You'd done it before, after all. Surely it wouldn't be as difficult a second time through?

“Ferrin, are you finished or should I wait before we begin the interrogation?” Papyrus asks, sounding enthused.

“Interrogation? Bro, ya already captured ‘em, do we really gotta pretend to interrogate them?” Sans asks, ambling over to you and taking the seat next to you.

“Nyeh heh heh heh! We shall not be interrogating the humans, brother! No, instead it is you who shall be questioned!” Papyrus declares, drawing himself up to his full height. 

“Precisely!” Ferrin says, imitating his tone. “We shall be your questioners, and any lying shall be punished!”

“Alright bro. I'll confess,” Sans says, slumping forward and putting his head into his hands. “I… I……”

“OH! I DID NOT EXPECT YOU TO CRACK SO QUICKLY! Yes brother? It is alright, the truth shall set you free! Or, well, it shall not, if you are truly guilty but erm… it seemed the proper expression. Either way, please continue!” Papyrus urges.

“Bro, I…” Sans chokes out. Everyone in the kitchen looks at him in concern. “I… Bro, I don't know if I can say this…”

“Sans,” Papyrus says, eyes solemn. “Whatever it is that is wrong, just know that I, the Great Papyrus, am always here for you. Please brother, share this burden with us!”

“I.. alright, I'm gonna come clean,” Sans sats, voice wavering and thick with emotion.

Everyone holds their breath as Sans tries desperately to bring himself to talk about it, opening and closing his mouth several times before taking a deep breath and staring Papyrus straight in the eye sockets.

“I… I'm never gonna pick up that sock,” Sans says solemnly. It takes you a few seconds but as the shock wears off you find yourself laughing. Ferrin joins you, and even Sans himself is snickering at his own joke.

A moment later Papyrus screeches angrily, and Ferrin actually flinches back from the sheer volume. “SANS! THAT SOCK HAS BEEN STUCK THERE FOR MONTHS NOW! IT JUST SITS THERE FOR NO EXCUSABLE REASON! WHY WOULD YOU EVER-”

“Paps!” Ferrin shouts as clearly as she can over Papyrus’ own loud voice, “Quieter! Please?”

“Oh! My most sincere apologies,” Papyrus says contritely.

“Yeah no, it's fine. Just, uh, keep it in mind. Anyways, I'm pretty sure he was trying to distract you,” Ferrin says, fake glaring at Sans.

“Alas, I have been caught,” Sans says, barely twitching his hands in the laziest gesture of mock defeat you've ever seen. “But I guess I was boned from the start with you two as detectives.”

Papyrus groans loudly at the pun, stomping his foot. Ferrin rolls her eyes and sits down at the table across from you, gesturing to the chair sitting next to her. Papyrus huffs again and drops down into the seat.

“Nothing shall be accomplished with his incessant punning!” Papyrus says.

“What is it that you two are trying to accomplish anyways?” you ask, uncertain. It's just like Ferrin to get angry about something and drop it the next minute, but you're more than a little confused. The two of them are acting as though they've…. been…. friends for ages. No. No no no no, that's not…

“Uh, well, this’s gonna sound weird but have either of you maybe been getting weird flashback things?” Ferrin asks hopefully. 

“What d’ya mean?” Sans asks, an undercurrent of tension in his tone.

“It was very strange, brother,” Papyrus mused, apparently drawn out of his irritation by the mystery, “But when Ferrin and I met, we began to remember these events that had never occurred!”

“Yeah, like the four of us and this kid cooking spaghetti in our kitchen,” Ferrin agreed.

“Or training together in the woods! And then, of course, we realized that the two of you were behaving oddly as well,” Papyrus says. “I could not believe my nonexistent ears when you invited the humans to live with us brother! You are not unkind but for you this act is far too trusting.”

“Yeah, and you two seemed pretty close when I saw you earlier,” Ferrin agrees.

The two of them wait for either of you to say something while you scramble for an answer. You want to glance at Sans for guidance but that would give you away. Instead you wait for what you hope will be an amazing plan.

“We, uh, we…” Sans trails off, fear in every tense bone of his body. Well, that didn't work out for you very well now did it?

“We should just tell them the truth,” you sigh, giving up. 

Sans looks at you desperately and you gesture your inability to fix this.

“Honestly, they already know the answer, what's the point?” you ask him. “Is lying really going to fix this?”

Sans remains silent for a long time, studying the tabletop. “You're right. You're right, yeah. You guys wanna know why you're getting weird flashbacks, right?”

“Please,” Ferrin says.

“Okay, well, listen up…” Sans goes on to describe how Frisk had freed the monsters the last time, skipping over Flowey's involvement at the end. He explains the basics of Frisk's saves and resets, as well as assuring the both of them that Frisk has sworn not to reset without cause. He refuses to tell them why the timeline was reset last time, saying only that something went wrong. There's a brief summary of the events leading up to them living in your house, although Sans makes it sound like the monsters were having success in dealing with the human government, and you know that isn't true. You opt not to comment on that as he goes on to briefly describe the other events of the previous timeline.

“And that's about it,” Sans finishes.

“Holy shit,” Ferrin whistles. “I mean, I figured it had to be something like that but damn.”

Papyrus is silent for a few long moments, studying Sans’ face. 

“Sans?”

“Yeah bro?” Sans replies, weariness in every line of his body.

“Has this… time thing happened before?”

Sans flinches. “I… yeah, yeah it has.”

“How often?”

Sans shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with the question.

Papyrus is silent for a few moments longer before breathing a sigh of his own. “Well, thank you for your honesty. I have work soon, please excuse me.”

“Wait, Paps,” Sans calls, causing Papyrus to stop and turn around, “Don't you, ya know, wanna know more about that?”

“Sans, I trust you. There must be a reason that you have kept this information from me, and I believe that you will tell me when you are ready. Unless you are prepared now?” Papyrus asks.

Sans’ shoulders fall in relief. “Not yet Paps. Sorry.”

“That is just fine! I know honesty does not always come easily to you. It is enough that you have confided part of the truth in me!”

Sans looks up at Papyrus in amazement. “What did I ever do to deserve such a cool bro, huh?”

“Nyeh heh heh, the true question is how anyone managed to create two great brothers!” Papyrus declares cheerfully.

Papyrus really does insist that he has to go to work not long after. He charges out of the house with an order to “Not eat any of that grease trap’s garbage fare - I shall be cooking an amazing spaghetti dinner tonight!”

“What about you, huh?” you ask Sans as you bid Papyrus goodbye.

“Too lazy,” he says with a wink.

“Sans, seriously, if we're causing you trouble…”

“Don't worry about it, [your name]. Everythin’s handled,” Sans insists. You frown but let it go. Surely he should be working, but you could be wrong.

Finding nothing else to do, the three of you settle down to watch television. With no need to pretend anymore, Sans leans up against you and you wrap your arm around his shoulder. A few minutes in you can see Ferrin losing interest in Mettaton’s news report - which, admittedly, is really more of an advertisement for MTT brand everything than an actual show. Her eyes drift and catch sight of the two of you. You grimace as you catch sight of the mischievous grin spreading across her face.

“Sooo… have you been a proper boyfriend?” Ferrin asks Sans, adopting an interrogational tone.

“Uh, sure?” he says, glancing up at you. You shrug helplessly. Ferrin’s going to do whatever she’s going to do, you’ve never been able to stop her. It’s endearing and obnoxious all at the same time.

“Oh really?” she asks, drawing out her words skeptically. “First date?”

“We went stargazing,” you answer.

“Wait how did- Oh. I'm not sure that counts,” Ferrin says thoughtfully. “I mean, it didn't happen this timeline, right?”

“Well no… But I mean that  _ was _ our first date.”

“Pretty sure it counts so long as both of us remember it,” Sans adds. 

“Nope, I wanna hear about your first date in this timeline,” Ferrin says stubbornly.

You open your mouth to answer and come up with exactly nothing. A glance to Sans confirms that he's drawing a blank as well.

“Oh my god, seriously?!” Ferrin asks, laughing.

“There hasn't really been time for that,” you point out.

“Hmm, well, alright, I’ll let it slide… for now. First kiss?” she asks.

“Which timeline?” you respond.

“Oooh, both, definitely both,” Ferrin says.

“This timeline was… What, the day we reunited? Pretty sure we were here at the house. But the previous timeline makes up for it, we were out sitting on a blanket under the stars, very romantic,” you say, rolling your eyes. Why this is so important to Ferrin you may never know.

“What's got you looking so shifty over there, Sans?” Ferrin asks pointedly.

You turn and Sans actually refuses to meet your gaze, eye lights trained on the wall furthest from you. He's even withdrawn from you, moving so that he's leaning up against the arm of the couch. Suspicious.

You raise an eyebrow. “Uh, Sans? Something I should know?”

“No,” he answers nervously.

“Oh my god did you like, kiss them while they were unconscious or something?” Ferrin asks.

Sans makes a choking noise that she takes as affirmation.

“Damn,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows, “That's kinky.”

She meets your eyes and you bite your lip to keep from laughing, but the return of the eyebrow wiggle has you busting out laughing. She joins you while Sans blushes even harder, fueling the laughter.

“Alright, alright, fine,” he groans. “You're gonna be the one regretting this [your name], not me. You remember when everybody got absolutely plastered at your place?”

“Yup,” you respond.

“So, as it turns out, someone gets very… affectionate when they're drunk.”

“Alright! That's the end of story time, thank you for joining us today but I'm gonna get the heck out of dodge while I still have my dignity intact,” you say, clapping your hands.

“Oh no you don't, you asked and you shall receive,” Sans says. “So as I was sayin’, you wouldn't stop trying to cuddle with me, getting all up in my personal space. ‘Course, who am I to refuse such a nice face?”

You groan as he winks at you and Ferrin giggles. They're enjoying this far too much for your liking.

“But I, being the gentleman that I am, tried to keep my good, platonic friend from doing something they were going to regret later. Because that is what good, platonic friends do, they try to keep their friends from doing things that would embarrass them. Like, say…” he pauses, tapping a finger to his chin and pretending to think. “Confessing their undying love and adoration and begging for a kiss from their very good and, - not sure if I mentioned this one - totally platonic friend.”

“I did not,” you say in horror. Ferrin's biting her lip to keep from laughing, her shoulders shaking as she waits for Sans to deliver the final blow.

“Oh yes you did. And you even tried to trick me - your totally platonic and in no way romantically involved friend - into confessing to you, can you believe it?”

Ferrin loses it, cackling as you bury your face in your hands and groan. You wish you could say otherwise but oh yeah, that sounds just like drunk you.

“Intoxicating your guests, trying to trick your dear, innocent friend, forcing him to cuddle with you, and then forgetting it all? Shame on you,” Sans says, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

You groan again, then sit up straight and narrow your eyes at Sans. “Wait, wait, wait. If I was drunk out of my mind and you were sober enough to remember all of this, then how the heck did I manage to kiss you? I've seen you use magic mister there is absolutely no way that I made you do anything.”

He tugs on the collar of his shirt nervously. “I was so flustered by my platonic friend confessing their undying love-”

“Sans,” you say warningly. 

“So uh, my platonic-”

“Sans,” you say again, drawing the word out as long as possible, “Is there something you're not telling us?”

“Okay so I maybe was a bit more than tipsy and I maybe thought it was kinda cute that my platonic friend was acting like that and I maybe was just the tiniest bit attracted to someone who’d protected us and all that jazz, and maybe, just maybe, I thought they looked cute when they were laughing at my jokes. So it's somewhat possible that I kissed them - after they begged for it, mind you - once I got them up to their bedroom. Maybe. Who knows. Coulda happened.”

“Dude. Dude,” Ferrin says, gasping for air, “This is hilarious are you kidding me?”

“So, you helped me upstairs after I passed out, and then decided to kiss my totally boozed up, unconscious self? Damn Sans,” you say, whistling. You're not actually too bothered - after all, kisses really aren't much to get angry about and you're sure that you had been asking - but poking fun at him is just too enjoyable to stop.

“You were literally asking me for it!” he says defensively. “And I know that sounds like a shitty excuse but you were actually verbally asking me to kiss you.”

“I was drunk as hell of course I did.”

“I was almost as drunk as you were, of course I accepted the offer. An attractive person asks you - an unattractive, lazy slob of a skeleton - to kiss them, you're an idiot if you don't take them up on it,” he huffs.

You wiggle your eyebrows - you've never been as good as Ferrin but then again you've never practiced in front of the mirror for hours on end like she had - and say, “One, we’ve talked about the self-deprecating humor. Two, even my drunk ass self has pretty high standards, and three, oh yeah, I'm sure I was smoking after however many shots I took. Booze breath, unfocused eyes and slurred words all it takes to win your heart?”

“That's definitely my kinda date,” Sans says.

“Oh my god please stop,” Ferrin wheezes, clutching her sides, “I'm gonna die, I can't breathe, oh my god.”

“Glad to see you're amused,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

“We’re here all week, don't forget to tip your waitress,” Sans says with a wink.

“You're having way too much fun with this,” you say.

“Awh, I'm sorry for ribbin’ ya,” he says, chuckling. 

“You'd better watch out or you're gonna get an elbow to the ribs,” you grumble.

“Holy shit,” Ferrin groans, fingers kneading her ribs, “I am in so much pain. I haven't laughed that hard in eons.”

The remainder of the afternoon sees nothing much in the way of action. Ferrin excuses herself sooner rather than later to check on Toriel, and comes back a while later to tell you that the goat woman has booked a room at the inn for both herself and Averia. She'd offered to get one for Ferrin, but hadn't seemed bothered when Ferrin told her that she had already agreed to sleep on the skeleton brother's couch since you wouldn't be needing it anymore. Papyrus returns a few hours later and makes good on his promise, preparing enough spaghetti for a small army. Everyone is invited, of course, and you find yourself enjoying it despite your worries. You think you even catch sight of a smile from Averia, although it's gone before you have enough time to check.

  
  
\---------------------  
  
  


A rapping on the bedroom door wakes you the next morning. With no brother to trick you're freed from sleeping on the couch, and you'd gladly taken Sans up on the offer to join him in his room.

“Wa ‘sup bro?” Sans groans from beside you. As he speaks you think you can feel the slide of his jaw against your upper arm.

“One, brother, it is very late and you should already be awake! But that is beside the point! You have guests, please ensure that you are decent before coming down,” Papyrus calls through the door.

“‘M kay,” Sans mumbles.

“Sans! I can hear you going back to sleep!” Papyrus shouts, exasperated.

Sans makes a disgruntled, sleepy noise and mumbles, “‘ve goddit, s’all good…”

Papyrus’ sigh is loud enough to be heard clearly through the door. “Human, please make sure that my brother wakes up. These are, after all, very important guests!”

You're really far too comfortable to even think about getting up, but for Papyrus you’ll… give it heavy consideration. Before you fall back asleep.

“Mmm hmm,” you hum, hoping that will be enough.

“Human,” Papyrus says, and you can practically hear the puppy eyes in his voice, “Will you please help me get my brother out of bed?”

“Arghhh,” you respond, doing your best to imitate a very irritable pirate. “Fine. Be down in five. Maybe ten.”

You're rewarded with Papyrus’ enthusiastic “Thank you!” and the sound of his hands clapping together in delight. Probably overjoyed that he doesn't have to wake up his brother, it's a pain since Sans never wants to wake up.

As you drag yourself into wakefulness you realize that you're glad Papyrus didn't come in here. Some time during the night you and Sans had managed to become tangled up in each other. You're lying on your back, Sans halfway on top of you, his face pressed into your shoulder/arm pit area, your legs thoroughly tangled together. One of his arms is pinned under you in a way that you're certain would be harmful to anyone with a blood flow to stop despite not being uncomfortable for you, while the other is thrown over your belly with his fingers holding tight to your hip. As you begin to sit up, this arm pulls tighter and Sans grumbles irritably.

You laugh. “Sans, we have to get up.”

“Fi’ mo’ mins,” he mumbles, clearly more than halfway asleep.

“No, in five minutes we need to be downstairs sleepyhead,” you say, smiling softly but pushing him off of you nonetheless. He groans loudly and turns over, taking most of the blankets with him.

“Come on, up and at ‘em,” you say, standing and tugging on his arm. 

He allows you to drag him nearly all the way out of bed, eye sockets closed as his head slumps over the edge along with most of his right side.

“Nooo,” he moans, still tightly clinging to sleep.

“Oh my god Sans, this is getting ridiculous.”

“C’mon, [your name], he says pleadingly, “D’you know how often I sleep this well? Fuckin’ never, that's how often.”

Ouch. Well, now you feel guilty, but that doesn't change much.

“Sorry Sans, we've still gotta get up. Pap says we've got guests, who the hell knows that that means. Based on the past few days I'd say anything between the Queen of England and my long lost brother.”

“Brother?” Sans asks, confused.

“No, sorry, it's a figure of speech or something like that,” you laugh. “I don't have a long lost brother. I think. Probably.”

“Mmmph,” Sans replies, stretching lazily.

A moment later one of Sans’ eye sockets slides open as his mouth curls up in the barest hint of a sly smile. Minimum effort facial expressions, now that's Sans. 

“Ya know ya used my nickname for my bro, right?”

“Huh. Guess I did,” you say, considering it. “Is that a problem? Ferrin did the same thing after all.”

“Nah, s’just I'm usually the only one sayin’ it. I bet he'd be thrilled. Undyne likes using his whole name, says it sounds cooler ‘cause it's formal, so nobody really uses any nicknames for him.”

“Pap,” you say, testing how it sounds. “Huh. Feels more natural, to be honest. But anyways, up and at ‘em, we need to get going.”

“Urghh. Are you sure we can't sleep some more? I'm bone tired, [your name].”

You know he probably intends it to be a pun, but it's blatantly obvious how much Sans needs rest. The dark bags under his eyes are far from gone even after a peaceful night's sleep and if it were up to you you'd definitely be letting him work on getting more right now. 

“One day very, very soon, you and I are going to be on the surface, at my house, cuddling in bed and napping the entire day away. I'll convince everyone to leave us be and make sure that you get all the rest you've been missing. But for today,” you say, holding out a hand, “It sounds like you and I have work to do.”

Sans eyes your hand distrustfully and then looks back up at you. “You'd better make good on that or so help me I'll…”

“You’ll what, huh? I'll have you know I once fought off five full grown men on my own,” you say, grinning.

He huffs in reluctant amusement. “I dunno, pin you down and use you as a pillow or something.”

You laugh and grab ahold of his hand. “Alright, it's a promise. At least one full day of nothing to do but sleep and cuddle, now will you please get up? I told Papyrus we'd be down in five minutes and I'd be willing to bet that he has a timer going.”

Right on cue, Papyrus shouts, “YOU HAVE ONE REMAINING MINUTE, HUMAN!”

“Don't worry Papyrus, I've got this,” you shout back.

Sans reluctantly gets up and the both of you get dressed. You'd only packed enough clothing for a few days, and so now you're stuck borrowing clothes. None of Papyrus’ things fit, but through some lucky break Sans’ do. You imagine it's a combination of your boyfriend being quite literally big boned and his habit of wearing loose fitting clothing.

Downstairs you find a rather interesting combination of people. Papyrus is there, of course, just taking the first steps up the staircase to roust the both of you when you finally exit Sans’ bedroom. Further down, sitting on the couch are Dogaressa and Dogamy, who look distinctly uncomfortable. Averia and Toriel appear to be arguing quietly again - although that's really not surprising, since you have yet to see Averia actually act friendly with anyone and are beginning to doubt her capable of it - while Ferrin tries to engage the dog couple in conversation. The entire group turns their attention to the two of you as you descend the stairs. 

“Woah, nobody told me the circus was in town,” Sans says. “Woulda brought out my musical instrument.”

“You can play?” Ferrin asked.

“Yup,” Sans says. You can practically feel him waiting for her to ask the next obvious question, and from the expression of caution on her face she apparently can too.

“I feel like I'm going to regret this… But what do you play Sans?”

Papyrus groans loudly as he stomps into the kitchen, already knowing what's coming. Averia and Toriel, the only two unfamiliar with the brother's typical behavior, look after Papyrus with confusion, and, in Toriel's case, concern.

“The trom-bone, of course,” he says with a wink. Even knowing that it was coming, you can't help but laugh at the irritated expression on Ferrin's face.

“Wow,” she says, “Just wow. That is so totally on me, I should have seen it coming a mile away.”

“Right,” Dogaressa interrupts, “Can we please deliver our message?”

“You probably want to hear this soon,” Dogamy adds.

“Slay it on me,” Sans says. Wow. Passive-aggressive punning. You're not sure if you should be impressed or horrified.

The dogs exchange a glance before Dogaressa stands up and says, “We have been asked by King Asgore to request the human’s presence in the castle. In the event that we managed to track down the strange monster who insulted Captain Undyne yesterday, we were asked to bring her to him as well.”

“Uh, sorry?” you ask, “But we don't know anyone who's a big enough idiot to insult Undyne.”

“Right, no, that was me,” Averia says. “But it wasn't so much an insult as a fact, really.”

Dogaressa rounded on her, growling. “Captain Undyne has done a fantastic job! She is- “

“Twice the Captain that you ever could have been!” Dogamy finishes, fur rising in an aggressive display. “We will not stand for- “

“Insults to her character or abilities! You have no right-”

“To say anything! She started very young and has earned our loyalty many times over!”

“Woah woah, no need to get your tails in a bunch,” Sans says. “Averia's a bitch to everybody, ignore her. Why does Asgore want us there?”

“There need be no ‘us’, Sans, just the humans,” Dogaressa replied. 

“Right. I'm going with them or it ain't happenin’,” Sans says, voice slipping dangerously close to the slow, deep one that still kind of terrifies you.

Apparently the dogs can sense their danger because they both lower their heads and tails slightly in a submissive gesture.

“We do not mean to cause any harm to your friends-” Dogamy says.

“And we assure you that Asgore has promised their safety,” Dogaressa says. When they speak like this it's hellishly difficult to understand what's going on.

“He will allow the humans to enter the castle this once,-”

“And as long as they do no harm to any monsters they encounter he will permit them to leave unharmed,” Dogamy finishes.

“I do not trust him,” Toriel declares suddenly. “Why would he permit the humans to leave unharmed when he needs only one of their souls to break the barrier? This does not make sense.”

“The king merely wishes to speak to the humans who have invaded his domain,” Dogaressa says.

“He has sworn no harm shall come to them. I think that-”

“Considering your reluctance, he might allow it, but only-”

“If you promise to behave,” Dogaressa says sternly.

“Deal,” Sans says, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“Excuse me?” you ask.

“I think it's a safe bet, [your name],” Sans says.

“Right, and if it was just me on the line sure, why not but I'm not going to let you put Frisk and Ferrin in danger, Sans. I want them here where I know they're safe. Sort of.”

“Oh my god,” Ferrin groans, “I'm not made out of glass dude. If you don't take me along I will follow you over there I swear.”

“You don't know where we're going,” you point out.

“Paps’ll take me, or worst comes to worst I pick a direction and just start walking,” she says with a shrug.

“Okay,” you say, grasping at straws, “So we can't stop Ferrin but surely you agree with me about Frisk-”

“I'm going,” a young, little used voice says from beside you, and you jump in shock. Frisk is looking up at you with pleading eyes.

Please, [your name]? they sign.

“Frisk, kiddo, it's dangerous,” you reply, crouching down beside them.

Asgore’s really nice though . 

“Frisk,” you begin, pausing and switching to sign language, ‘You know he's killed you before. It's too dangerous to let you tag along kiddo.’

But I want to go! they pout.

“It's too dangerous,” you say aloud, looking up at Toriel for help.

“I am afraid that I must agree with [your name], my child. Asgore does not exactly have a pleasant track record with children,” Toriel says disdainfully.

But… Frisk looks lost and sad,  I want to see my dad again.

You grit your teeth and try to draw on your wavering resolve, signing, ‘Frisk, he doesn't even know that he's your adoptive father right now. He might hurt you.’

Dad wouldn't…. they trail off, fingers fumbling as though they've forgotten the signs before signing deftly once more,  Asgore doesn't want to hurt us. If he says he won't then we're safe. Please take us with you?

“Toriel, Frisk says if Asgore swore not to harm us he won't do it. What do you think?” you ask.

“I… He was always good about keeping promises,” Toriel admits begrudgingly.

Frisk beams at you, obviously thinking the argument over.   
You sigh heavily and nod. “Alright, fine, field trip it is. Two skeletons and three humans walk into a castle to meet a goat king, it sounds like the start of a really bad joke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Internet Cookies to anyone who can figure out the two reasons that the chapter is named 'Poking Sleeping Dragons'. Extra bonus points if you know what I'm referencing there.
> 
> You know, never thought I'd write a character dumb and/or reckless enough to insult Undyne. Welp.
> 
> This chapter was originally a shorter section simply titled 'PLATONIC'. I'm guessing you already know which section I'm talking about. Honestly Sans, picking on poor Reader like that.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it! I promise less fluff and more actual story next chapter though haha. I'm sure you're getting impatient by now.
> 
> Update on other writing projects (COTP, a piece with part of my Gaster's history) can be found here: [Updates On Any Non-MIR Projects.](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/post/141707134166/update-on-non-mir-projects)


	40. That Was... Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Averia gets a personality a bit more complex than 'angry bitch', and then proceeds to tear that down,  
> Asgore has a really, really bad day,  
> The River Person says mysterious things,  
> And everybody else has an awkward time.
> 
> Beta Reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Tumblr: [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)
> 
> (Sorry about the delays guys! It doesn't really make up for it but the next chapter will definitely be up tomorrow, so look forward to it!)

The dog couple insists on escorting the five of you to your next set of guards. You figure that immediately removes all possibility of being able to take one of Sans’ shortcuts, unfortunately. You resign yourself to a long walk, so when the guards begin to walking further into town it takes you a few moments to realize that you've forgotten the obvious.

Farther up the path the River Person is waiting by their boat. Unlike in-game, where it had looked too small for more than three petite passengers, it could easily carry all of you. Dogamy and Dogaressa opt to stay in Snowdin, saying their job was done once they'd gotten you here. You thank them and board the boat, where Sans whispers to you that all of the dogs hate Hotland and tend to avoid the Core as well. The heated cavern floors burn their sensitive paw pads and their fur traps the heat so that they're panting messes ten steps in whenever they do go there.

You wave them a cheerful goodbye as you settle into the raft. The River Person is humming a cheerful tune and seems to pay you little attention. Frisk is just a bit too short to easily clamber into the boat, so Ferrin lifts them over the edge and you're reaching to take them from her as the navy blue cloak moves past your face to catch the child. Frisk grins up at the River Person and signs their thanks as they're placed gently on the bench beside you.

You catch a glimpse of something dark from under the edge of the robe sleeves and you're immediately curious. Most memories of the game and the community surrounding it are still fuzzy at best, but you're positive you're sitting in front of one of the game's many enigmas. Who and/or what could that hood be hiding? 

You scold yourself mentally and look away, trying to focus on the water sliding past. As gorgeous as Waterfall looks as you speed by, the hooded figure before you still has most of your attention. With everyone else either resting or gawking at the sights you find your gaze drawn back to the humming individual steering the boat.

The curiosity biting at you won't leave you alone, and so you find yourself trying to sneak a glimpse under the hood of the humming figure. Your curious gaze finds nothing but black shadow. You lean over a bit further, squinting. Had that been…? You yelp as your curiosity pulls you over too far and you nearly fall on your face. Ferrin's hand on your shoulder pulls you back before you can hurt yourself or overturn the boat.

“Uh, [Your name]?” Sans asks, and you look over to see him raising one bone brow at you.

“I, uh, I was… the river looks nice?” you try, hoping he’ll go for it.

“Damn babe, fallin’ for somebody else already? And I thought I was the heartless one,” Sans says, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes.

“I mean, don't get me wrong I'm curious too but I'm really not feeling like showing up to a meeting with the king soaking wet, so uh, maybe we shouldn't be taking any dips into the river?” Ferrin suggests teasingly. 

“Yes, please do avoid tipping over my boat~,” the River Person says in a sing-song tone, hood tipping back towards you. Their voice carries a trace of amusement.

“Sorry,” you mutter, embarrassed. 

“We should take precautions. If you're really that curious then you might actually knock over the boat trying to see them,” Ferrin suggests, taking advantage of the situation.

Frisk nods solemnly, signing,  The only way to stop us from taking a swim is to solve the mystery.

“Tra la la. Well, if it will keep you from knocking us all into the river~,” the River Person says with a chuckle. You wonder if they can understand Frisk or are just responding to Ferrin.

You're in the middle of another embarrassed apology as their still hidden hands grasp their hood. You lean forward eagerly as it slides back, your breath catching at the face under the hood.

Everyone in the boat stares, dumbstruck at the sight before them. 

“Wh-” Ferrin chokes out, staring between your face and… well, your face.

“Oh my, is something wrong~?” the River Person asks in their sing-song voice. Their face is an exact copy of yours, and it takes you a few moments of gaping like a fish to speak.

“You're not… That's not possible?” you say, voice rising in an unintended question.

“Tra la la~,” is their only response as they cock their head at you.

“Magic is so freaking cool,” Ferrin groans. “Somebody's got to teach me how to use it.”

The River Person’s eyes study her in amusement for a minute before their face melts for lack of a better word, everything shifting and rearranging itself before it settles into an exact replica of Ferrin's face.

“Uh,” is your eloquent response, staring up at your sister's face on someone else. The mouth is curled up in amusement as they watch Ferrin bounce up and down in glee.

Sans whistles loudly. “Well dang, guess some a the shapeshifters lived, who woulda thought?”

The River Person laughs again before they finally let go of their magic. The facade of Ferrin’s face disappears entirely, leaving behind a subtly shifting body of black, with small flowing strands of blues and purples. Their face is blank except for two silver almond shaped slits where eyes would be on a human.

“Oh for the love of-” Averia groans, clapping her hand over her eyes. “How the fuck didn't I realize that earlier? Out of everybody it just had to be you, didn't it?”

“It is my pleasure to meet you again~,” the River Person says, laughing. 

“Uh, who? How?” you ask, hoping someone can make sense of your fragmented sentences.

“That,” Averia says, jabbing one irritated finger at the cloaked figure, “Isn't a shapeshifter. It's a shadow elemental, and they’re an asshole.”

“Comin’ from you that sounds hypocritical,” Sans says, chuckling. He's apparently unfazed by whatever it is that's going on. Then again, it takes a lot.

The River Person laughs loudly. “Oh my, former Captain, are you making enemies already? And after only three days~.”

“How did you- No, you know what you're gonna give me some bullshit answer so fuck it,” Averia sighs. 

“I know many things. Such as the ire of the current Captain~.”

“You’re a pain in the ass do you know that?”

You decide to chime in. “Uh, Averia? There's a kid in the boat, you think you could tone it down on the cussing?”

“Bet you the kid already knows them all,” Averia replies.

You glance at Frisk and they look mildly guilty.

You guys do kind of cuss a lot , they sign apologetically.  Especially uncle Sans.

“I resent that statement,” Sans says. You give him a pointed look at the lack of remorse in his tone, which he responds to with an even wider grin.

“I should have worn a million more pairs of pants today~,” the River Person says idly, still humming.

“So how do you know each other?” Ferrin asks after a pause.

“They used to tag along with a sorceress that I knew,” Averia says, shrugging. “She did a lot of crazy things, I eventually learned not to ask questions.”

The River Person laughs again, saying, “My lady was quite the mystery~.”

Averia looks up at them, face unreadable. After a few moments of getting her thoughts together she says, “I heard about the humans, the ones who fell down here.”

They hum, obviously waiting for more.

“I, uh… Well. Morgana drove me up the wall sometimes… and she definitely had a shady past. But I was glad to have known her. She was a good person as far as humans went,” Averia says, eye lights distant.

You and Ferrin share a glance. Either it's group hallucination time or Averia had just professed affection - and for a human nonetheless.

“T’was not as sad as you may think, former Captain. She died as she lived~,” they say, voice musical. “And, miss former Captain… you have made a foolhardy decision~.”

“Ehh, I'm sure it'll be fine. Besides, I'm sure you'd love it if I bit the dust.”

“The life of a janitor is a difficult one~,” they say, sliding their hood back over their head.

“Sure is,” Averia agrees.

  
  
\------------------------

 

The rest of the ride passes quickly. The entire distance from Snowdin to Hotland took little more than fifteen minutes by river. The boat sails past the last stop from the game and comes to a smooth halt not long after.

“This is your stop, do be careful on your way out. The king has requested that his guests be dropped off where they will not have to traverse the Core~,” they say.

“Thank you very much,” you say as everyone leaves the small cavern that had been your stop, and they nod in return.

“Certainly, hero. Do care for the fallen children, they may not be as they appear~.”

“I… I’m sorry?” you choke out, staring at them. They’d meant child, not children… right?

“No you aren’t~.”

“O… okay?” you say, looking at them strangely.

When they don’t reply, you shrug and turn around to follow the rest of the group. They’d apparently met your new escorts, a Knight Knight and a Madjick.

“Hero~,” the River Person calls, catching your attention.

“Yes?” you ask, hoping they’re planning to explain themselves.

They pause, head tilted a bit. “I shall not spoil the surprise… But I have two words of advice. Do not leave anything unsaid, and befriend the man who speaks in hands~.”

You blink in surprise, unsure of what to say. “Uh, I really wouldn’t mind you spoiling the surprise, actually. Could you maybe be a tick less vague?”

“Tra la la~,” they say in response.

“Ya aren’t gonna get anythin’ more outta them,” Sans says from behind you. Once again you hadn’t heard him come up, but at least you don’t jump this time. 

“Are they always like this?”

“Oh yeah. C’mon, whatever they’re talkin’ about’ll be clear sooner or later.”

You follow him to join the rest of the group as they make their way to an elevator. Your escorts both take out a key and plug them into the elevator that awaits you. It dings open and allows you inside.

“This will take us directly to the castle,” Knight Knight explains solemnly. The Madjick bobs up and down with a grin that nearly splits its face, snickering at nothing. The orbs feel a bit like they’re staring at you, and you decide that you’re a bit unsettled by the strange monster.

The elevator opens up to a lengthy hallway. Beyond it you have a view of the city surrounding New Home, while before you stretches the way to the Judgement Hall. It’s amazing the little details that didn’t make their way into the game, although you suppose a shortcut into the castle would be a bit much to ask for in-game. You silently thank Asgore for being able to avoid the long walk and any chance of running into Mettaton. He might be entertaining to meet, but you’re far from ready to face him.

“Damn,” Averia whistles, looking around. “Asgore’s got himself quite the place here.”

Ferrin gasps in awe as you enter the Judgement hall, and you grin at her enthusiasm. 

“Dude,” she breathes, staring up at the stained glass that decorates the walls, “This’s amazing.”

You laugh. “Sure is, but we’ve got a meeting with a king, come on.”

She shakes her head but moves to follow the rest of you. Sans looks almost mournful past his grin, but surprisingly Frisk seems to enjoy the sight of the gilded room. You suppose they must have enough good memories of the place to outweigh the bad ones Sans is remembering.

Knight Knight straightens as you near the archway leading into Asgore’s throne room and declares, “The intruders have arrived to see you my king. Skeleton monster Sans of Snowdin accompanies them.”

“Howdy!” Asgore calls cheerfully. “I am in the garden, you can just send them on in.”

Your escorts wave you forward - or at least Knight Knight does. Madjick continues grinning uncomfortably widely and snickers at your glance. You breathe a sigh of relief as you get away from them.

The throne room is even more gorgeous than you remember it being. Without the dust it looks lived in, and the hulking figure in the center of the room is humming cheerfully. Asgore is turned away from your group as he waters the flowers. 

He hears your approach, saying, “Howdy again, thank you for coming on such short notice! It is so rare that humans fall, and with a monster nonetheless.”

Asgore turns merrily, a jovial smile on his face. He freezes, mouth falling slack in shock as he stares at Frisk for a few long, tense moments. They break his stunned state by waving cheerfully, which he slowly returns.

He manages a shaky smile, saying, “I apologize for staring. Please, forgive my rudeness. You resemble someone I knew a very long time ago.”

Frisk smiles wider, nodding. Asgore apparently takes that as a good sign. His eyes slide over you, Ferrin and Sans to rest on Averia. For a moment he stares dumbly as the watering can slowly slides from his hand. It lands with a dull thump. Asgore doesn't seem to notice, gaze still locked onto Averia.

It's her who breaks the silence as she steps forward. “Asgore,” she breathes, staring at him as intensely as he's staring at her.

Asgore swallows, his mouth moving without words coming out for several seconds. “Is… Could it really?”

He stumbles forward a step, eyes taking in the slight figure before him as his face lights up with uncertain joy. “Averia? Is that really you?”

Averia’s face splits in a grin and it occurs to you just how old she'd looked when she was grimacing constantly. She looks like an entirely different person as she says, “What, three hundred years too lo- Oof!”

Her sentence is cut off as Asgore runs forward, pulling her into a hug that draws her off of the ground with his enthusiasm. She responds in kind, both of them laughing breathlessly.

“You- I thought you were dead!” Asgore roars in delight.

“Gonna take a helluva lot more than that to take me out!” Averia shouts back.

Asgore puts her down, holding her away from him as he inspects her for wounds. She rolls her eyes and grins, trying to mask a quick wipe to her eye sockets - which, unless you were much mistaken, had been filling with violet drops.

“Geez, I'm fine kid, how have you been? Gods, it's been three hundred years! I can't even call you kid anymore, you're the king now!” she exclaims, still grinning happily.

“Bah,” Asgore says, waving her off, “I may be king but hearing you call me that would make this strange. But enough about me! How is this possible my friend?”

Averia’s grin falters a bit before coming back full force. She waves him off, saying, “It's a long, boring story.”

Asgore looks at her strangely. “Well, I am sure it is, but do you not wish to boast about your achievement? You defended all of us for three hundred years! Surely you wish to tell the story.”

“Nah, I'm good,” she says nonchalantly. “Anyways, you've got humans to interrogate, right? Or are we going to get straight to the soul taking?”

“I do not-” Asgore begins.

“If that's the plan though, we'll have to off that one,” Averia continues, pointing straight at you, “First.”

“Averia, I do not-” Asgore begins, expression slowly morphing into horror.

“Actually, I take it back, we should probably handle the skeleton monster first. But if you keep him busy I can get rid of-”

“Averia!” Asgore shouts, appalled.

The skeleton monster jumps in surprise and turns to him. “Geez, you’ve got my attention, what’s wrong?”

“I have given my word that these people will not be hurt! They shall come to no harm while they are my guests,” Asgore says.

You subtly glance at Sans, concerned. His gaze flickers to you for a moment before going straight back to the pair arguing in front of you. He shakes his head just enough for you to see. Whatever’s about to happen, he apparently has faith in Asgore. You’re not sure you trust the king, but you do trust Sans.

Meanwhile, Averia demands, “What? You want to get us out of here, don't you? I know how many kids have fallen, that’s the last one, Asgore!” 

“Be that as it may, we shall not harm them,” Asgore says, tone severe. “I shall not be backing down on this, no matter how close we may have been.”

Averia’s expression goes glacial. She looks at Asgore with a kind of chilling fury you have yet to see from the fiery warrior. 

“So that’s how it’s gonna be,” she says flatly.

“It appears so,” he responds, tone equally emotionless.

“You’re just gonna let our ticket out waltz around, huh?”

“I realize that you have spent these past centuries fighting for our sake, but killing humans is not the answer to our problems.”

“Like you're any better,”Averia growls. “What happened to all of the kids I let fall, huh? They just gave their souls to you, right? Just walked on up here without any trouble and handed themselves over?”

“Of course not. Sacrifices have been made, but only when they were absolutely necessary. I cannot in good conscience harm a human who has done no wrong.”

“Right. And, of course the humans haven’t ever done that to us. Nah, they’re all great people who wouldn’t harm innocents for no reason, can’t believe I forgot that one,” she says sarcastically.

“Please, Averia, I ask that you reconsider your stance on this matter. The humans are not-”

“Nah, I've got it. You're weak, Asgore.”

Asgore doesn’t respond beyond what may have been a shiver, just visible as the slightest twitching of his shoulders. 

Averia continues. “Magore would’ve known that this is necessary. He wouldn't have let those humans through and Asae sure as hell wouldn't have tried to adopt one. I never did like Toriel. That bitch changed you, and-”

“Averia.  **Silence** . You may insult me but I will not permit you to insult my wife,” Asgore orders. He's drawn himself to his full height, staring down at her with an expression as chilling as hers.

Averia’s the first to break the silence, chuckling. It quickly moves to full blown laughter as she shrugs, turning back the way you’d come. Her gaze is focused on something in the distance, and you’re not sure she’s seeing something that’s actually there.

“Good to know I'll be down here for eternity with everybody else,” she says, walking past you without a glance your direction. “Maybe I'll take up knitting, gods know I'll have the time to learn it.”

“You are acting like a child. When you are capable of behaving like the adult that you are, I shall welcome you back here. However, in the meantime, it would do you well to remember that I am your king,” Asgore says, voice solemn and serious.

She pauses and chuckles dryly again. “Nah, you’re not.”

“ **I am your king** ,” Asgore says, putting the full power of his voice behind his words. They echo throughout the throne room, nearly deafening you.

“Really? ‘Cause the way I see it, you’re nothing to me,” Averia drawls. “I swore to serve Magore, because he was a king worthy of my services. You, on the other hand… Well. All I’m seeing is a fool blinded by misguided compassion. You’re not my king. My king’s dust because some humans decided we weren’t good enough to be alive.”

Asgore’s face is shadowed as he looks at the floor. The only evidence that her words have hurt him is in the way that his shoulders draw in subtly with every word. Still, he speaks again.

“You bear grudges for wounds that have long since been healed.”

“I dunno about that,” Averia says, raising her palms. Whatever she’s studying is impossible to see from your angle. “Seems like the damage is still here.”

“Averia-”

“Look, I’m done with this conversation. You do whatever you want with the kid’s soul, you let the humans wander around the underground, let them kill everybody for all I care. It’s not my job anymore. I don’t give a flying fuck about any of it. Enjoy your human buddies,  _ King _ Asgore,” she spits, hunching her shoulders and stalking forward.

Asgore stares after her, expression mournful. A wordless, furious shout and the crash of something hard hitting stone coming from the Judgement hall causes him to flinch.

“Holy shit,” Ferrin whispers, staring at the doorway behind you. You silently agree.

Asgore stands there for a while longer before sighing heavily and rubbing as the back of his neck.

“My apologies for her behavior. She was not… so angry, before,” he says mournfully.

“It’s okay,” you say. “Thanks for keeping your word, Your Majesty.”

“Please, just Asgore is fine…” he sighs again, still watching the doorway like he’s hoping she’ll come back.

“Um, sorry if this’s overstepping our boundaries, but did you two know each other?” Ferrin asks uncertainly.

“Yes… We were rather close before we came to live down here. But that is a long story and I have much to discuss with you. Will you not join me for tea?” Asgore asks, gesturing back the way you’d come.   
A quick glance confirms that everyone agrees. “Yes, please, we’d love to,” you say, smiling up at the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Sorry about the long wait, I promise I have been writing but things are currently very hectic in my life so my apologies if things are weird right now. My beta reader is also super busy, so things have been delayed out of necessity. Sorry again, here's to hoping that it won't happen again!
> 
> I hope you guys like my take on the River Person! Despite having a fully fleshed out background, they won't make many appearances in MIR, so if you'd like to know more please ask! They're going to play a part in COTP, so I can't answer everything, but I'd love to tell you anything you'd like to hear about them!
> 
> I also hope no one minds that Averia's taking center stage for a little bit. She's got a very specific role but to get her there I need to develop her more. Hopefully she's interesting enough that nobody minds!
> 
> (I'll also be twenty years old in six days, how weird is that?)  
> (The answer is super freaking weird, that's how weird.)


	41. No Amount Of Wrongs Make A Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are significantly more than two wrongs here, but, well, you get the idea.
> 
> We all finally get some explanations, even if that doesn't change much.
> 
> (If you don't like Averia, this chapter will hopefully make you realize that yes, there's something in there worth saving.)
> 
> Beta Reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Tumblr: [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

Asgore seats himself in front of you, mug of tea in hand. He’d invited all of you into his home and, of course, offered you drinks. He’s pretty hospitable for wanting to kill the kid you were trying to protect.

“Greetings again, and thank you all for coming,” he says warmly.

“You're very welcome,” you reply.

The air is somewhat awkward, probably because everyone there knows that sooner or later the king will have to try to kill you. You sigh internally and thank any gods that are listening when Sans breaks the uncomfortable silence.

“Sorry to bug ya ‘bout it but should the Sentries be worried ‘bout Averia?” he asks. “She could be a potential threat.”

Asgore looks troubled. “I do not believe so. She has always had a bit of a temper… Although it was never directed at myself.”

“I hate to be the one sayin’ it but don't ya think she might've changed?

“No. I do not,” Asgore says firmly. “She has been through much. I will not turn my back so quickly on the woman who trained and helped raise me.”

“She was awfully quick to turn her back on you,” Ferrin points out. “And she’s been an absolute bitch to poor Toriel even though she’s the only reason she’s been feeling better.”

“Please do not speak ill of her. I am… not, perhaps, in the best of moods and would hate to say something else I will regret later,” Asgore says.

You hastily intercede before Ferrin can add to the growing list of ‘shit people are going to regret tomorrow’. “We can do that. But do you have an explanation for her behavior? Maybe if we can work out why she’s so mad at us we can fix it?”

“For Sentry purposes I’d like to know more too,” Sans adds. “Not really sure who we’re dealin’ with here.”

Asgore sighs heavily. “It is a long story. However, you seem to be in the thick of it, so allow me to explain.

“Three hundred years ago, when monsters still lived among humans, my father, King Magore, ruled a rather large city of monsters. Averia had risen to the position of Captain of the Royal Guard not fifty years prior. She and my father were close. I have never seen anyone so devoted to another. Many held the false belief that she wished to be the next queen, but she was as friendly with my mother as she was with my father. My family's safety was always her top priority, and the second was a close friend of hers. The third, she and my father shared. They held that the safety of every monster in the kingdom was theirs to protect… And they did so very well.

“At the time, we were attempting to negotiate a permanent treaty with a nearby human kingdom. Through the actions of that kingdom's princess, the tentative peace fell apart. My father and mother were both killed and I suddenly found myself the king of a dying kingdom I was sorely incapable of ruling. We were lucky that Averia had been so involved in the workings of the kingdom. She was more king than I after my father passed, even though she surely mourned them as I did. Full blown war began not long after, and we began to search for somewhere that those who could not fight could hide.

“We eventually found the caverns we are sitting in today, but were still in the process of investigating them when the humans launched an all out attack on the city. The evacuation began, the Guard and the army doing their best to hold off the humans. We were… well, solely outmatched is a kind way of putting it. Many died that day…” Asgore trails off, looking mournful.

You wince at the reminder. Ferrin looks kind of sick at the thought, while Frisk just looks sad. You almost apologize, but really what good would that do?

Asgore continues. “But that was many years ago. Not all humans were against us. We were fortunate to have the backing of a few human mages and a very powerful sorceress. By pairing their power with ours, we bought enough time for the survivors to evacuate here. We intended to use the underground as a temporary retreat, just until we could find a good way to escape… But one of the humans betrayed us. They had been giving the princess any information they gained the entire time. The barrier was put up without us noticing, and before we realized what had happened the survivors were already stuck. Upon realizing anyone who had descended were now trapped underground, Averia made a decision. She and the majority of the Guard chose to remain above ground and defend the entrance. I wished to stay, to fight alongside her and die if need be… But she convinced me I was necessary down here.”

He chuckles softly. “Do you know, I still remember what she said to me when I said she was more fit to rule than I? ‘They need you, Asgore. I'm not a king. I never have been, and I'm never gonna be. But you, you've got this aura. It makes people want to listen to you, want to die for you if we have to. You're never gonna be your father, and that's just fine. Be you. That's what everybody needs right now.’.”

Asgore stares off into the distance, obviously lost in thought. He shakes his head slightly as he turns back towards your group.

“Which brings us back to why I have called you here today,” he says, demeanor changing. He now looked every inch the king, looking you straight in the eye with squared shoulders.

“The barrier was created by seven human mages, who used seven human souls to maintain it even after they passed. Unfortunately for us, they wove a very specific requirement into the casting. To break the barrier requires the use of seven children's souls of the same type as those used to power it. Over the years I have gathered six. The final one that my people require to regain their freedom is a red soul. Determination. I have been informed that this child has such a soul.”

Frisk nods and you tense, but Asgore just responds with a sad nod of his own.

“I will not break my promise to you. All three of you shall leave my castle without being harmed, and I shall not pursue. However, after today the guards will be on strict orders to capture the child's soul. I… wish it did not have to be this way. But I cannot deny my people the freedom that they deserve.”

“Ya know, Asgore, I don’t think anybody’d much appreciate you havin’ to kill a kid,” Sans says quietly.

Asgore smiles sadly at his sentry and Judge. “I know, Sans. You and I have had this conversation before and my answer is the same as it was then. If it is for the freedom that they deserve I will become the villain of this story.”

“Even-”

“Even if it means punishment under the law when we escape. Even if it means disrespecting the death of my children. Even if it means losing my wife,” Asgore says solemnly.

You hadn’t realized just how set on this path Asgore was until now. This is a man who has resigned himself to doing what he thinks is right even if it means throwing his own morals away.

The goodbyes are stilted and awkward. You leave knowing that the next time you see Asgore he could well have killed the kid you’re starting to think of as a second sibling, or even Ferrin. Hell, the next time you see him might be through the haze of your own death. The knowledge makes it difficult to laugh at Sans’ attempts at jokes, even though he keeps trying. You have to admire his dedication.

  
\---------------------

  
Averia stalks through monsterkind’s underground prison, fuming. Fuck that brat, who the hell does he think he is? She attacks a nearby pillar out of spite and anger, grinning maliciously when she sees the damage, but no one comes to stop her. For just a second she considers doing real damage to the hall, then chucks the idea. If no one’s angry about this, they’re not gonna care if she does worse. Besides, she’s really not sure she wants to face Asgore again after that mess.

No one stops or questions her as she leaves the castle and some part of her wishes they would. It would give her an excuse to fight someone, maybe even get a bit roughed up in the process. She rubs irritably at her chest, where her soul is still pulsing in pain. It had started doing that earlier, when… that had happened, and hadn't stopped since. Fucking hell, she’d probably fucked it up again by putting too much strain on the damn thing all at once. Can’t go back to Toriel either, not after insulting her like that. Sure she’d be forgiven but she doesn’t actually want that. She really, really wishes someone would call her out on her bullshit and hit her for it. Maybe hit her a few times. Knocked unconscious seems fair. Hell, dusted seems fair, she’s earned that much, right?

Her furious pace takes her out of the magma filled area and into someplace she’s pretty sure is called Lakeland. As she begins to lose the raging fury the pain in her soul increases. She mutters curses under her breath, rubbing at her sternum. It doesn’t actually do anything for the pain, of course, but it’s probably some kind of leftover instinct like the breathing and at least it feels like she’s doing something.

Hours later and entirely too soon she's standing in the snowy town. She scowls at the skeleton brother's home but doesn't even consider going inside. She can hear the human’s voices and has absolutely zero intention of interacting with them.

She sighs and rubs a weary hand over her eye sockets. They feel like they've been filled with grit. Actually, every joint feels like she's bathed in fine sand and her bones ache like hell. She's probably been up and about for too long. Toriel had warned her she would need several more healings before she would be mostly healthy, but Averia hates sitting still. If something’s wrong - and there's always something wrong - then she should be the one out there fixing it.

Or making it worse, apparently.

The rather depressing thought drives her forward in the hope that nobody will notice her pass. When no one shouts after her, she sighs in relief. There are a few monsters scattered about, and she returns the greetings sent her way. An ass she might be, but at least she could pretend to be civil. Heh. Someone guilty of high treason, worried about being rude.

She shakes the thought off as she looks around. The building closest to her looks like it would be warm, but she’s after a more liquid comfort.

“Libarby,” she reads the sign aloud, raising a brow bone. Apparently grammar had been one of the first things to go down here. Truly a tragedy.

The bar is a welcome sight as she snickers at her own sarcasm. She doesn’t have any gold, but if she’s lucky somebody will lend it to her or she can work it off… somehow. Even if she isn’t that lucky, it’s someplace warm and she’s pretty sure she can’t go any further even if she wanted to make her way back to the city around Asgore’s castle.

There’s a sign above it that she ignores as she trudges inside and welcomes the warmth that melts some of the pain out of her old bones. She'd always kind of wondered why skeleton monsters stayed together so much better than human skeletons. Something about the transformation process, probably.

She slumps down into a seat and brings her tail over to curl around her leg. Drunk people don't pay attention to much of anything and she'd hate for someone to step on it. She's had enough pain for one day. Her soul pulses in wounded agreement.

Only a short moment later, a very warm hand forces her chin up and she finds herself staring up at a familiar, fiery face.

“Captain?” Grillby whispers, flames flickering erratically as he fails to contain them in surprise and hesitant hope.

Averia gapes up at him for a moment before a grin nearly cracks her face in two. She leaps out of her seat and grabs her former Guardsman by his shoulders. “Holy hells, Grillby?! I thought… Oh, who cares what I thought holy smokes, you’re here!”

Grillby’s face lights up - literally, his flames turning a brighter shade of yellow in his joy - and he pulls her closer for a hug, his whispering voice speaking words tense with emotion. “I can’t believe… thank the gods you’re alive.”

The rest of the bar stares in silent confusion, the patrons glancing at each other, silently asking if anyone knew who this woman was and why Grillby, of all people, was acting so emotional towards someone no one had seen before.

“Grillby did you just… vault over the counter?” a pretty dog woman asks, staring at him in awe.

The two of them pull away from each other as Grillby clears his throat uncomfortably, adjusting his immaculate tie in embarrassment.

“So you haven’t lost all of those years of training, eh?” Averia asks, laughing. “Good to know, good to know.”

“Wait, aren’t you…?” the woman asks, studying her.

“From earlier, dearest. She insulted-” her husband fills in.

“Undyne, yes, I remember! Grillby, she isn’t-”

“Very kind, we would avoid her if we were you.”

“I’d avoid me if I were me,” Averia agrees glumly, the many reasons she’s here coming back. The dogs frown at her tone and glance at each other, uncomfortable. Slowly, everyone goes back to doing whatever it was they were doing before she had walked in, and Grillby takes a seat across from her.

“How?” Grillby asks, still studying her in shock.

“Same as anybody else, a human made me fall down here. Or, okay, to be fair it was mostly my fault. Knocked both of us into this place,” she admits ruefully.

“No, no, how did you... survive?”

Averia grimaces and taps the upper left area of her sternum. “I got a bit of a… donation, you could say.”

Grillby’s fire flares up brightly for a moment before he can rein in his surprise. “You… A human.. How?”

“Really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Was it… someone we knew?” he asks tentatively.

She sighs heavily. “If I tell you, will you stop asking questions?”

He nods and she continues. “We did, they gave it to me willingly in return for a… favor, of sorts, and it’s kept me going for the past few centuries.”

Grillby looks physically pained by the effort required, but restrains himself from asking more questions. Averia shoots him a grateful look.

“So a bar, huh? I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not,” she says, chuckling. “You never did like fighting, but you sure loved feeding people.”

“Indeed.”

Averia ducks her head and rubs at her cervical vertebrae. “I never got a chance to tell you in person, but… I’m sorry.”

Grillby gives her the elemental’s equivalent of a sad smile. “I suppose I should have known an old friend would bring up old wounds. Do not worry, Captain. I do not blame you for asking Burns to do what needed to be done and neither would he have.”

“Yeah. Still,” she says, shrugging. “He was a good man.”

“One of the best I’ve had the honor of meeting,” Grillby agrees.

Averia looks on the verge of saying something else, then bites her metaphorical tongue and sighs instead. “Shit. Sorry, I know you’re looking for a reunion of sorts but would it be too much to ask to get drunk out of my mind tonight? I want to catch up, really, but there’s been a lot going on today that’ll be a hell of a lot easier to talk about if I’m a few glasses in.”

Grillby nods easily and stands up. He doesn’t have much spare time to talk anyways; his patrons, kind as they might be, did not have all of the time in the world in which to wait for him to have a proper conversation with an old friend. He drops off a glass and a plate overflowing with a large burger and fries. When she begins to object, he holds up a hand to silence her.

“For you, I think we can ignore payment for tonight,” he says.

“C’mon Grillby, you can’t just let me have this for free,” she objects, although the sight of the food has her bones aching again with the thought of regaining some of her lost magic.

“Consider your payment the explanation that you owe me later,” he says, chuckling as he walks off.

  
\-----------------

 

Many hours later the food’s entirely gone and she’s… hell, how many drinks in is she? She’d lost track after the first few, but she’s been drinking them slowly and alcohol isn’t that effective on skeleton monsters anyways so she refuses to feel guilty, damn it. However many drinks later she’s willing to admit that she’s a little past tipsy but not really getting too close to actually drunk. The day is slowly inching to a close, and she’s grateful. The drinks had certainly dulled the ache in her soul but not enough to actually let her forget what she’d done. Hoo boy. She’d fucked up worse than that one time she’d knocked some mystery liquid over in the lab. Mary and her husband had been angry with her for that for weeks.

The hell was the husband’s name again?

Fuck it, she’s past caring.

“Hey Grillbz,” an all too familiar voice calls, and she groans, burying her face in her arms. How's about fuck that shit, she's not dealing with this.

She hears something quiet from the bartender. Not that Grillby isn’t usually quiet, but even for him it’s a tick on the inaudible side.

“Don’t really wanna hear it, buddy,” Sans says cheerfully but with a definite undertone of aggression.

Grillby wisely chooses not to respond, and a moment later Sans’ attention is diverted.

“Oh hey, if it isn't grumpy mc I-want-to-kill-all-humans,” Sans says, sliding into the seat across from her.

“Whaddya want?” Averia slurs, glaring at him.

“Oh, it isn't about what I want,” Sans says cheerfully. “ **I t’ s   a b o u t   w h a t   y o u’ r e   g o n n a   d o**.”

The whole lights gone, creepy voice thing might have been scarier if she'd been at all inclined to care. “Yeah, yeah, super fucking terrifying. Get to the point so I can get back to drowning myself.”

Sans actually looks surprised at her response. It's subtle enough that most people wouldn’t notice the shift, but then again she's good at reading skeletal facial expressions.

“What? That little play usually got people runnin’ for the hills? Cut the theatrics and get to the point.”

“Guess I’ll just say it straight then. How's this: the humans are off limits. All of ‘em.”

Averia shrugs and downs the last of her drink. “Sure thing kid, knock yourself out. Or don't. None of my business what you do. Or who.”

Sans studies her in irritated confusion. “Just today you basically told the king to go fuck himself because he wouldn't kill them immediately. Now you don't care what happens?”

“Yup. Grillby, I need another.”

Sans silently studies her for a moment, eye lights popping back on.

“Ya know, it’s kind of interesting that you picked up that habit,” she says idly.

“Uh?”

“The eye thing. It helped us skeleton monsters deal with humans if we could look different from a necromancer’s pet dog, so we started doing it. Just think it’s interesting that you do it too,” she says, playing with the drink that Grillby places beside her. The bartender tries to catch Sans’ gaze, but when he realizes that Sans is deliberately ignoring him he tactfully retreats.

Sans sighs and rubs his skull like he has a headache before trying a different method. “You do understand that my biggest priority is the people close to me, right? If you do anything to hurt the humans, or my bro, or Toriel, you're not gonna like what happens next.”

“Yeah, sure thing, got it.”

“I know you understand what it feels like to need to protect the people you care about. Asgore told us about you.”

Averia tenses, teeth grinding. “He did, did he?”

“Yup.”

“Fucker,” she hisses, “So what, you hear a sob story about me and think I'm some charity case that needs your help? Asgore wasn't there and it sure as fuck wasn't his story to tell. So if you know what's good for you you're gonna get outta here before I get really mad.”

Sans seems surprised by her vehemence, studying her in a way that feels eerily familiar. “Uh, I don't think we're talkin’ ‘bout the same story. Asgore was there, he told us all about how his parents died and you stayed topside to protect everybody?”

Averia blinks a few times as realization dawns on her face. “Oh. Whoops. Yeah, that… uh, that's what I meant.”

“Riiight,” Sans says, clearly not buying it. “My point still stands. Some humans - hell, maybe even most humans - suck. But the ones that’re down here right now are good. They've been nothing but kind to us.”

“‘Cause they need something from you. Wait ‘till you're not useful to them anymore.”

Sans chuckles. “I'd be willin’ to bet they’d be just as helpful if the situation were reversed. These are good people. You saw their souls, right? No LOVE, no EXP, nothin’. Ferrin, the one you were with, her color’s dark green. Kindess. The other one’s straight gold, their soul is entirely love, and we both know I’m not talkin’ the bad kind.”

“Great,” Averia says flatly, still playing with the glass.

“But you still want to kill ‘em, huh?” Sans says in the same tone as before, cheer overlaying a clear threat.

“Look, kid. Is there a reason you're here? I won't touch the humans, I won't cause you any more trouble. I'll even leave your little town if that's what you want, just leave me alone,” she says, taking a sip of her drink.

“Sounds great, but I wanna know why.”

“What, why I don’t wanna hurt the humans? Maybe I’ve seen the fuckin’ light, I think they’re goddamn saints like the rest of you, does it really matter? I’m not gonna hurt anybody. I just want to drink in peace, that too much to ask for?”

“Uh huh,” he says skeptically, obviously waiting for more.

Averia sighs, pinching the space between her eyes. “Fucking christ, you all want this headache to be permanent, don’t you? Look. I realize my LOVE doesn’t exactly say good things about my moral compass, but I swear I’m actually not that into killing people. I know, fuckin’ shocker right there. If you say the humans aren’t a threat then I genuinely want to believe you. If you’ve got it wrong you’ll be the first to know. I mean, heh, let’s be fuckin’ honest here - even if they did decide to go on a rampage there’s jack fucking shit I could do about it. Four days ago I was about to bite the dust, and I’m not doing that much better now. I owe all of my progress to Toriel, and I’ve been a damn ass about the whole thing. I’m a stiff wind away from falling apart, kid. Asgore’s gonna haul me off to jail tomorrow, and I fucking deserve it. So for one goddamn night, I want to sit here and drink away the fact that I’ve fucked up beyond all repair and literally nothing is the way it’s supposed to be. Is that really too much to ask?”

“Nah, guess not,” Sans says, studying her.

“So, ready to leave me to wallow in peace?”

Sans considers her carefully, obviously thinking something over. Fuck, where the hell has she seen that expression before? “Ya know, I really want to believe in Tori. She thinks there’s some good there in you, some compassion, maybe even something worth forgiving. My bro’s convinced everybody can be a good person if they just try. Me, I’m a bit more skeptical but I’m all for second chances, stars know I’ve needed enough of ‘em. So if ya can be civil, my bro’s invited ya over for dinner at six tomorrow.”

“I’ll… think about it,” she says, surprised. What the heck?

“Good,” he says, grunting as he stands up. “Just remember, humans’re off limits, watch the cussing, and my bro’s a fantastic cook even if he isn’t.”

“Sure thing… See you.”

Sans studies her carefully again before relaxing his grin into something a bit more sincere. He waves as he turns to leave. Maybe it’s not too late to repair some of her fuck ups, Averia thinks.

Averia watches as Sans leaves the bar, then clambers to her feet. She wobbles a bit as she makes her way across the bar but manages to sit down in a barstool without falling over. Grillby shoots her a questioning look and nods towards the bottles lined up behind the bar.

“Nah. ‘M good,” she says, resting her chin on her arms.

“I believe you claimed you were here to drown your sorrows. Changed your mind?” Grillby asks in his quiet, whispering voice. She closes her eyes and remembers a better time, when that voice could often be heard scolding a fiery tempered violet elemental. When she'd trained with Asgore while the king and queen cheered from the sidelines. When she'd often stood side by side with her friends, exchanging snarky comments with… who the hell had that been again? She brushes it aside. If it’s important, she’ll remember in the morning.

“Yeah, guess so,” she says, remembering he'd asked a question. “Sorry, ‘m a bit outta it.”

“Wha’, did Sans change yer mind, lady?” the scruffy bird sitting a few stools down asks, slurring his words. “Don’ listen to ‘im, e’s a hippo… hip… that thing wi’ the h an’ th...”

Grillby sighs. “Hypocrite is the word you are looking for, Steven.”

“Tha’s it….” he says, trailing off blearily. “‘M outta booze.”

“Yes, I cut you off half an hour ago,” Grillby reminds him.

“Oooooh.”

“And I thought I’d let loose,” Averia says, amused.

“Yes, well for you this is loose,” Grillby says.

“Eh. I guess.”

“I don't believe I have ever seen you drink this much?” he continues, making it a question.

“Yeah. Did something dumb today.”

Grillby continues cleaning, waiting patiently for more. Years as a bartender had given him the ability to know when silence was the best motivator.

“Time to pay that tab already, huh? I, uh, went with the humans. You know, to go visit Asgore?” Averia begins, shooting an anxious glance around the bar. Nobody was left aside from the three around the bar. As she hesitates, Steven begins to snore loudly.

Grillby nods, understanding her worry. It is nearing midnight, he might as well close for the night. He gently shakes the bird awake, and escorts him outside as Steven insists he can walk the fifteen feet to his house. The front door is locked, the sign flipped over, and by the time Grillby gets back to the bar Averia is looking more relaxed. He goes to the back and very carefully fills a glass with water before bringing it to her.

“Thanks,” she says, downing half of it in one go. “Anyways, went to go see Asgore. I just kinda figured, you know, humans are underground and we were gonna take the kid’s soul and use it to get out of here, but for some reason that really pissed him off. Got angry, said things I’m definitely regretting now. I’m kind of an idiot.”

“Humans are… A more distant threat to many of those who were not involved directly in the war. Even Asgore finds it all too easy to forget the horrors of the war so many years later. He has technically declared war upon humanity… But I find myself doubting that many would fight if his orders were to do so, if any.”

“That can’t be right, somebody tipped Asgore off that they were here or else he wouldn’t have known about it.”

“I was the one who reported them,” Grillby says uncomfortably. “Or at the very least I tricked Sans’ brother Papyrus into doing so for me.”

“See? That's what any reasonable person would do!”

“Yes, but I am beginning to think that I may have done the wrong thing.”

Averia groans loudly and buries her head in her hands. “Nooo, come on, we both know what happens when you trust humans!”

“No, we know what happens when trust is placed in the wrong humans. Can’t you think of at least a few who deserved our trust? Morgana? Mary?”

“Okay, yeah, sure. But what about the traitor, huh? The princess? The hundreds of humans who were perfectly okay with having us killed?”

“The traitor was… misguided. The princess was not above harming humans as well, if you recall, and the townsfolk were just people without power trying to live for another day. Surely you haven’t forgotten what that’s like?”

“Surely you haven’t forgotten how bad it feels to watch the people you love die because of that misplaced trust?”

“I was there when Burns passed, yes,” he says quietly.

Averia flinches. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring that up. But how do we know somebody else isn’t gonna have to go through what you and I did because of these humans?”

“I suppose that we have no way of knowing. Their track record speaks in their favor, however.”

“But that doesn’t mean they’re going to keep sparing people Grillby! We can’t know that everyone’s safe! Magore would be choking on his own dust if he thought I was going to let humans murder his people!”

“Just earlier you were saying that the humans were no longer your problem,” Grillby points out.

“Awh, come on, you know that was a lie. I just… I want to do what Magore would’ve done, if he could, if she hadn’t… killed him. What he would’ve wanted me to do.”

“And that is?”

“Protect the innocent, of course. That’s all he ever wanted to do.”

“And the humans are not innocent?”

“I don’t know, you’re the one who reported them, you tell me.”

“I made an error in fear that I will not be repeating. Sans trusts these humans with his brother’s life and that is good enough for me. I believe it would also have been enough for our late king.”

“He wouldn’t have placed his trust in just anybody,” Averia points out, grasping at straws.

“He knew Morgana’s crimes and still trusted her to do the right thing,” Grillby responds.

“Urgh,” she groans. “I hate it when other people are right.”

“No, Captain, you just hate being wrong.”

“Former.”

“That just sounds wrong.”

“Eh. It was a lot of work anyways.”

“So, what exactly happened at the castle?”

“About what you’d figure. Asgore said he wasn’t gonna kill the humans even though we were in the perfect place to do it, I lost my temper, things went downhill from there.”

Grillby waits once more.

“Fuck, you’re disturbingly good at that. What happened to socially awkward Grillby, huh?”

Grillby gestures towards the bar with a small shrug.

“Huh. Yeah, guess that makes sense… I lost my temper. And by that I mean I said a lot of things Asgore didn’t deserve.”

Averia moves her arms so that they’re partially covering her face and focuses her gaze on the fire escape instead of looking at her companion.

“I told him he was a weak king, right after I brought up the whole having to kill the kids thing. Also kinda insulted Toriel. Who’s been nothing but a complete angel to me even though I’ve been taking out my anger on her. And then I told him he wasn’t even my king, and basically said his father would’ve been doing a better job in his place. He didn’t even get mad at me. Fuck. Fuckity fucking fucking fuck. I’m a damn moron aren’t I?”

She groans and hides her face as the glass Grillby had been cleaning nearly slips from his fingers.

“I also kinda attacked a pillar in that stained glass room thing on my way out,” she mutters.

Grillby stares at her in shock, trying to come up with something to say. Alcohol loosens the mouth and the mind, and he’s definitely heard a lot in his time as a bartender. Drunken rants about cheating spouses? Easy. Complaints about everything from kids to work to the seemingly unending banishment in a cave? He can handle those. Philosophical and/or complex scientific ramblings that he didn’t really understand? Well, only Sans ever did that, but Grillby took care of it all the same. His former Captain committing crimes against the king that could get her arrested for treason? Significantly more difficult to deal with.

His mind blank, he settles for, “Ah.”

Averia snorts. “Yeahhh. That was my day. So how was yours?”

“Significantly less eventful.”

“Darn, I was hoping you’d managed to overthrow a kingdom and save a prince or something. Maybe elope and run away to another country.”

“Unlikely.”

“No shit Grillby. Despite being quite literally made of fire, you’re usually the coolest head in the room. It’s my job to do stupid shit.”

“You should apologize if you feel guilty.”

“Dunno if he’ll accept my apology. He’s definitely got every right to be angry.”

“This is Asgore we’re talking about, yes?”

This gets a dry chuckle from the skeleton monster. “Yeah, I know. Kid’s always been too forgiving for his own good… Remember that time Noise absolutely creamed him during practice and he just thanked her for helping him out?”

He chuckles, the sound crackling in the air like wet firewood. “Yes, I believe that was also your fault.”

“Bah, he needed to learn what losing felt like. You all went too easy on him, kid thought I was some sort of fighting god because I was the only one willing to decimate him in a match.”

“I believe that may not have been the only reason,” Grillby says with amusement. “You regularly defeated seasoned veterans, occasionally against very unfavorable odds.”

Averia snorts but feels a small surge of pride. “Hey, I wasn’t Captain for nothing. Gotta stay sharp.”

“You did not, perhaps, need to enjoy it as much as you did,” Grillby says, the slight teasing tone in his voice alleviating any sting the words might have carried.

“So I enjoyed my job. Sue me,” she says, grinning.

The two of them fall into companionable silence as Grillby continues cleaning and Averia remains at the bar.

“I’d offer to help-”

“But you would do more harm than good,” Grillby finishes. “Do not worry, I enjoy the process of closing the bar. It is rather calming.”

Quiet reins once more, interrupted occasionally by the squeak of rubber gloves. Averia’s thoughts wander back over the day and she finds herself curious about the people she had met.

“The kid who came in earlier, Sans, he didn’t seem very happy with you.”

“...No, he did not,” Grillby says, sighing.

“Got anything to do with what you said earlier about getting his brother to rat on his datemate?”

“Most likely.”

“He seems like a good kid.”

“He threatened you,” he reminds her.

“Eh. I’m thinking I probably deserved it.”

“So you admit that you were wrong?”

“I said probably. You could just apologize, ya know.”

“Yes, I know. It did not seem appropriate earlier, but I will attempt to do so tomorrow. I like to think of us as friends, but in truth I do not know that he will forgive me. He is very defensive of his brother and it seems that protective nature of his extends to the humans now.”

“You think that highly of him, huh?”

“Indeed. He’s brilliant, always discussing something I can barely wrap my head around. I do admire his love for his brother. And the puns, my goodness, he could out pun that friend of yours even. He has his problems, but so do we all,” Grillby says, chuckling.

Averia raises a brow with a pointed grin. “Sounds like somebody’s got a crush.”

“Hardly,” the fire elemental says dryly. “I enjoy his company, and that is all.”

“Alright, geez, I was teasing,” Averia says, raising her hands in cheerful surrender. “Sounds like both of us have some apology letters to write.”

“Indeed.... I believe I understand why you wanted to drown your sorrows, so to speak.”

“Fucking up does seem to inspire the desire to fuck up more, yeah.”

“You still could? On the house even.”

“It's fine,” she says, waving him off. “I know it sounds dumb, but it just feels like there's somebody looking over my shoulder and trying to tell me they're there for me. Like they know drinking ‘till I pass out isn't going to help and they're trying to stop me.”

Grillby looks at her in surprise and she chuckles uncomfortably.

“Yeah, I know. Weird, huh?”

“...Perhaps. The stranger thing is that you are not the first to say that.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes. I have heard similar things from Sans before. I don't tend to think much of them though, he often says odd things. Once he asked me if I'd ever thought about how awful it would be if the same few weeks kept repeating themselves for all of eternity. I've learned not to question it.”

Averia’s brows knit in confusion. “Hey, I just realized, where’d those kids come from?”

“Sans and Papyrus?” Grillby shrugs. “No idea. As far as I know they just showed up one day.”

“Huh. Weird…”

“Indeed. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?”

Averia shifts uncomfortably. “Sorta? Toriel got me a place at the Inn over there, but, uh…”

“You don’t want to take advantage of her kindness after insulting her.”

“You’re too damn good at that,” she groans.

He chuckles. “It comes with the job. I live above the bar, and there is a couch with your name on it if you would like it.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Averia says gratefully. “Thanks Grillby.”

“You are more than welcome. It is a pleasure to help an old friend.”

“If the Guard shows up tomorrow asking where I am, tell them, okay? I’m not gonna get you in trouble for my sake,” she says firmly.

“I do not believe it will be necessary, but if it means you will join me upstairs then I shall agree.”

Averia nods grimly and follows him upstairs. “I’m sorry to be causing you so much trouble.”

“It is nothing. Will you require anything from me?”

“No, thanks.”

Grillby nods and heads into his room to sleep. Averia spends a while tracing the whorls and knots in the ceiling with her eyes before feeling them grow heavy. Busy as her mind was, her body was absolutely exhausted, and she slipped into dreamless slumber gratefully. All of these damn problems could wait for tomorrow morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you're all used to constant anger from Averia, but hopefully you can understand why she's acting differently with Grillby. The constant anger is actually more out of character for her than her behavior in this chapter. Is she easily angered? Definitely, but this kind of constantly on edge, have to be doing something at all times, 'I don't want your forgiveness' kind of attitude is indicative of deeper problems. BUT that does not mean she's earned anybody's forgiveness yet. Simply acknowledging that what you've done is wrong isn't enough, you've got to act on those words. (And she's probably going to have a lot of difficulty with that one, because she hasn't really been cured of her dislike of humanity yet.)
> 
> My love of and pity for Asgore is exceeded only by my love of this game and a few of it's other characters.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Shoot any questions you have my way on here or on my tumblr and I'll be more than happy to answer you.
> 
> (Should I apologize for it being dialogue heavy? I've seen others do this and don't really understand why. Is dialogue bad? I admit confusion.)


	42. Demons Real And Imagined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine a big, flashing warning sign for me, and READ THIS CAREFULLY BEFORE CONTINUING.
> 
> ARE YOU READING THIS?
> 
> Good. This particular chapter is the darkest one so far. It's probably also the worst one that I'll write for this story, because for the most part I want this to be a cheerful story. Unfortunately to answer a few questions we need to go here. So if you are 1) not bothered by things of a graphic and/or incredibly disgusting nature, 2) okay with reading about rape, 3) won't be bothered by unintentional misgendering of a non-binary character, and 4) promise me this won't leave you feeling awful for the rest of the day, feel free to ignore these warnings and skip the rest of this summary. For any of you who aren't okay with the things listed below, stop reading at the chapter break and resume once it's done, there's a summary at the end.
> 
> Things that occur in this chapter:  
> \- Chara is misgendered unintentionally.  
> -Several characters die in horrific ways.  
> -A character is raped (although the act is not shown or described in detail) and there are verbal references to a desire to do the same to a 12-13 year old child.  
> -"You" as Chara die in a violent manner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU DIDN'T READ THE SUMMARY DO IT NOW PLEASE.
> 
> SERIOUSLY.

Thankfully, once you’d made it home from Asgore’s house, things had been calm. No more mysterious shadow people who knew far too much for your liking, no more kings who want to steal Frisk’s soul, no more anything except for a very concerned and exuberant skeleton with a large pot of spaghetti. Even better, it had been edible spaghetti - evidently, Papyrus’ improved cooking skills had come back as well as whatever other memories he’d gotten. You know Sans is worried about that. But honestly, Sans is worried about everything. He’d spent most of the day in either a jittery, nervous state, gaze locked onto the door and windows, or with a laid back attitude you recognized as depression induced apathy. You silently resolve to bring an end to your visit underground as soon as possible, both for his sake and the sakes of the two you’d put yourself in charge of. Asgore had promised you were safe when you visited but he’d definitely made it clear that his protection extended only that far. And as for his talk about the barrier… Well, you’d definitely taken your first opportunity to speak to Sans about it in private.

“Lemme guess, you’re wonderin’ ‘bout what Asgore said,” he’d said as you opened your mouth. Papyrus and Ferrin were having a joking argument over whether or not she could technically make that move in chess; ‘Pap, I swear, I can totally do that!’ ‘I would hate to imply doubt in my good friend but I have never before seen a king that could teleport!’ ‘Then you, my friend, have obviously not been playing chess correctly.’ Frisk had gone over to moderate, and was scolding Ferrin for lying.

Sans was staring at the TV through glazed eyes - or, a more accurate description for someone without eyes, an expression that screamed the lights are on but nobody’s home. 

You’d sighed. “Yes, I was. Are you sure I can’t just go give them my soul?”

“Assuming I’d let you-”

“I do  **not** need your permission, Sans.”

“Never said ya did. I’d rather ya hate me than go and sacrifice yourself,” Sans had said, voice toneless and flat despite his ever present smile. You’d sighed and gestured for him to continue. “Assuming I didn’t stop ya, it would only probably work. Technically with enough power it’s possible to override the spell, but the pushback from it… Prob’ly wouldn’t be pretty. Best case, whoever broke the barrier would die. Worst case, so does everybody within a few hundred miles.”

“A few hundred?!”

A humorless chuckle had you flinching internally. “Barrier’s not somethin’ ya should underestimate. Some real strong magic and a helluva lotta hatred went into it.”

“If the game was anything to go off of, nothing bad happened when the barrier was broken by force.”

Sans’ grunt of disbelief had you about to defend yourself before Frisk had come over to rejoin you on the couch. Ferrin was good-naturedly grumbling her fifth consecutive loss while Papyrus crowed his victory.

After you’d congratulated Frisk on forcing your sister to be honest - earning you an irate look from the latter - Chara had spoken softly in your mind.

_ The whole barrier thing. Smiley trashbag is right. _

You’d sent them a mental question mark to ask for more information, pointedly ignoring the insult.

_ When Azzy opened the barrier by force. It… I don’t know, fought back? He had to spend a lot of the energy he got from the human souls preventing it from blowing up. _

Well. That had definitely put a dent in your ‘ignore Sans’ (probably sensible) suggestion that you not find a way to sacrifice yourself by going and doing just that’ plan. You hadn’t been able to come up with another one either, so you’d reluctantly given up on the idea.

Hours later you’d been curled up with Ferrin and Frisk, watching the first Pokemon movie when Sans had walked back in through the front door despite not having left through it. You’d just wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes while furiously denying you were doing it - The crying scene is sad, dang it! There’s nothing wrong with a few tears! - and as you’d looked up you’d noticed him standing there watching you. Or not, since he hadn’t responded for several seconds when you’d waved at him. Maybe a minute later he’d shaken his head sharply and joined the pile on the couch.

Later, as the two of you are settling in for bed, you ask him about it.

“S’no big deal,” he says, yawning. “Just went down to Grillby’s for a bit.”

“And decided to take the long way home?”

“Maybe I just wanted to work the kinks outta these old bones, that a problem?” he asks teasingly.

You snort. “Sure, and I’m going to turn into a duck. Why’d you really go there?”

“Wanted to make sure a certain somebody knew what would happen if she made me get serious.”

“I should probably be telling you that’s a bad thing to do… But thanks,” you say with a sigh. “I’d like to believe that she’s not going to come here and murder Ferrin in her sleep, but apparently she’s already tried that. She’s a lot… I don’t know, angrier than everybody else? It’s worrying.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, I’ve got your back. She was awfully friendly with Grillbz though, kinda worryin’ tibia honest.”

“I’m going to start counting how many times you repeat the word tibia by making tally marks on your forehead. In permanent marker.”

“Awh, c’mon, what happened to thinkin’ my puns were humerous?”

You smack Sans lightly, groaning. “I take it back, any time you mention any bone names I’m adding a tally mark.

“What if I’m…”

“Sans, oh my god.”

“-outside of your radius?”

You groan louder than before and swat at him. “You’re impossible!”

“But you’re smiling,” he says softly.

“I confirm nothing,” you say, trying and failing to stifle your smile. “But you reminded me earlier, what about Grillby?”

“What about him?” Sans asks stiffly.

“You know what I mean.”

“I was gonna see if he wanted to apologize,” Sans admits. “I was even thinkin’ I should prob’ly accept it s’long as it was a good one, since there’s really nothin’ we can do ‘bout it now. Kinda went out the door when I realized he’d let the bitch in there.”

“Sans,” you sigh.

“What? She is.”

“Yeah, I know. Just… tone it down a notch maybe? I don’t like seeing you angry,” you say. You catch a glimpse of his saddened expression and back pedal. “Oh, no, not like that! It’s not that it’s scary or whatever, I meant that it’s not good for you. You seem pretty stressed.”

“Watching everybody ya care about die a few thousand times does that, yeah.”

“Sans…” you say sadly, unsure of how to continue.

He sighs heavily and runs a hand over his skull. “Sorry. That was… yeah. I don’t mean to sound so… ya know, just kinda stressed out like ya said. Mind if we just head off to bed?”

“No, that’s fine. If you do want to talk you know where I’ll be.”

Sans’ smile softens into something a bit more genuine as he takes your hand and squeezes it firmly. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

A few hours later your mind takes revenge for the last few days. You wake up with a gasp, eyelids flying open to find darkness.

“Waz goin’ on?” Sans slurs, voice heavy with sleep.

You gasp in another breath and press a hand to your chest. Your heartbeat races under your fingers as you force in another breath. The nightmare is already fading from your mind - all you really remember are snaking vines around your neck and screams that weren’t your own - but the fear holds on for longer.

“[Your name]? What’s wrong?” Sans asks in concern.

You finally get your lungs working properly and breathe in deeply, eyelids fluttering shut.

Sans calls your name again in rising worry, and you open your eyes to find his fingertips hovering near your shoulders.

“Nightmare, sorry,” you pant, closing your eyelids once more.

“Don't apologize,” Sans says. “Guess it makes sense after everythin’ that happened…”

“Stop that.”

“What're you talkin’ about?”

“I can tell that you're blaming yourself. It's not your fault Sans.”

Sans goes to argue just as your breathing hitches again and you realize that instead of the steady slowing you’d been expecting, your heart is still speeding along like you’ve just run a marathon. The feeling won't go away, and you suddenly realize that the panic isn't coming from you.

“One sec,” you say, ignoring Sans’s sound of confusion in favor of concentrating.

You close your eyes to focus. The feeling of panic hovers in the back of your mind, just barely there until you try to grab ahold of it. As you do, you feel something yank you forward and suddenly- 

 

 

\---Warnings Apply From Here On Out---

 

 

The house is burning and your mother is screaming and your father has you by the back of your shirt, tugging you and your brother along. You can’t tear your eyes away from the sight of your childhood home in flames.

Your parents were good people, your father a herbalist and your mother a healer. Your mother’s talents are only just enough to accelerate healing, nothing flashy. Your father’s natural ability with any and all plants is only maybe magical in origin. Really, nobody’s sure and apparently that’s enough.

Your eyes flash over the growing mob nearby as your father shoves you into your family's carriage. He'd just come back from a birthing - probably a bad one, if his irritated slamming of the barn door when he returned home had been any indication - and so the horses are ready to go. Seconds later Mama rushes to take a seat as the vehicle jerks into motion.

“They’re going to follow us!” your mother shouts.

Your father curses loudly, and your brother starts crying. He’s always been a bit of a crybaby, you think dully.

Not too far down the road, Papa pulls over and Mama takes Frances out of the carriage. Scarcely a minute later she returns, but Frances doesn't. You ask Mama where he went as the carriage resumes its flight, but she merely shakes her head.

“Your brother will be fine, Chara. Sit quietly my dear.”

Suddenly things shift and you're nowhere near the farm, carriage racing up a winding mountain road. Flickering orange lights are gathered near the base of the mountain.

The carriage jolts to a halt and your mother exits, softly telling you to stay. Their hushed voices speak for a few moments before the door opens once more and you're ushered out. Your mother’s smile is strained, unshed tears making her eyes glisten. Her pale yellow nightgown is torn and dirty at the hem.

“Chara, my brave baby girl, I need you to be strong for me, okay honey?” she says, voice wavering.

“Mama, I’m scared,” you whimper.

“I know honey, I know, but I need you to be brave for me. Can you do that?”

If Mama needs it… You nod, determination rising.

“Good. I need you to go deep into this forest and hide. Your father and I are going to go away for a little while honey. So while we’re gone you need to take care of your brother. Go back and find him, he’s by the Smith’s barn, you know where that is, right honey?”

“Evelyn, hurry up!” your father calls from where you can hear the horses stomping in agitation.

Your mother’s smile becomes more forced as she pulls you in for a hug. “Honey, if anything bad happens to Papa and I, you have to take care of Frances. What are you going to do once Papa and I leave?”

“Hide until it’s safe and then go to the Smith’s barn and get Frances,” you repeat faithfully.

“Good. Stay safe,” she whispers, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek. She holds onto you for a few more moments before gently pushing you towards the forest.

You don’t look back as you take off in the direction she’d pushed you. You follow Mama’s instructions, making your way further up the mountain.

A shrill scream breaks the quiet night and you flinch.

Taking your mother's advice you decide to hide, pulling yourself under a bunch of bushes and staying stock still. Not even a second later - how was that possible? - a group of men pass your hiding spot.

“Did you hear that bitch squeal?” one of the men asks, laughing uproariously. You shiver as you remember the person that the face is attached to. You can’t remember his name but his family owned a small farm near the edge of town. He’d come in not even a week ago for some medicine for his mother’s cough.

“Felt good giving them what they deserved,” another adds. You recognize the voice as belonging to your neighbor, whose wife your father had helped through a particularly difficult birth. Their baby had been born healthy and happy, his mother exhausted but now thriving.

“Fucking witches, servants of demons and fairy folk,” another one grumbles. 

The men move beyond your hearing and you shiver, glad that they hadn't noticed you. Despite every part of your mind screaming at you to keep going and get away, you begin racing back towards the source of the scream. Mama could be hurt. You had to save Mama.

The smell hits you before you can see what the clearing holds. Thick and coppery, weighing the air down and making you gag. The scent of blood is heavy in the scant breeze as you finally get close enough to see your destination.

The sight before you knocks you breathless, unable to draw in the blood soaked air. You’ve seen blood before - Papa had slaughtered chickens with your help, and a healer’s child must accustom themselves to the kinds of cuts and scrapes that tired farmers can cause themselves. Once you’d even seen a man whose hand was crushed under a grindstone at the local flour mill. He’d been pale and still when he was brought in, the end of his arm wrapped in cloth that dripped with blood. Mama hadn’t let you help with that one, ushering you upstairs. Your family had attended the man’s funeral the next day despite the glares of his family members.

But this. This is more blood than you’ve ever seen. Puddles of red liquid litter the ground, slowly seeping into the earth. You stumble backwards as you realize what the grotesquely twisted objects in front of you are. Frances is closest to you, glazed eyes fixed on yours, head twisted at an impossible angle. Papa is a bit further away and it only takes a moment to realize that a lot of the blood is his. His shoulder is torn apart, hands mutilated, body nearly unrecognizable even to you. Mama’s furthest away, and the indecent way that her skin is exposed is somehow the most jarring part. Mama says ladies keep themselves covered, their bodies for their husband's eyes alone, but what little of the shredded gown isn't littering the forest floor covers none of her ghastly pale skin. She, too, is covered in gashes that are no longer leaking blood.

 

Dead.

 

 

Your entire family is dead.

 

 

You flee the scene, stumbling over your own feet as you run. The tears streaming down your face blind you, and you trip over tree roots and fallen branches more times than you can count. Your seeking hands find yet another tree trunk in the darkness  and you go to move around it before you find your wrists seized.

“Well,” the voice above you drawls, and you freeze, “Lookie who I caught here.”

Your shaking legs give out from under you, but you don’t fall. Rough hands grab ahold of your shoulders and hoist you up against a sweat covered body.

“The gods truly reward the patient,” another male voice says, and you realize that the man you'd run into is accompanied by another.

“‘Course they do, we're doing their work.”

“Let us go find the others,” the man who isn't holding you says, and you

“Can’t I have some fun with her first?” the man holding you whines, tightening his grip around your waist.

“No. The gods won't want a tainted sacrifice, and besides, we let you have the mother.”

“Sure, but I want this one too. Bet you nobody’s had the wench before. Her momma didn’t squeal loud enough for me,” he croons, hands moving towards places you know he’s not supposed to be touching and you let out a sob of fear.

“I said knock it off,” the other one growls, grabbing you and roughly yanking you away from the lecherous hands that were holding you. You’re too terrified to be grateful as the one who’d ‘had’ your mother grumbles from behind you.

In a confusing turn you don’t even notice as the two men become twenty, a whole crowd of leering faces watching as the one holding you shoves you forward roughly. You stumble but right yourself quickly. In front of you is an immense black chasm that smells of brimstone and blood, the scent of blood is everywhere  _ it’s following you - _

“Get going, witch,” the man spits, looking at you with utter loathing. The figures behind him twist, faces blurred, eyes bright red, mouths twisting in horrifying grins too wide for their faces as they loom over you. Whispers fill the air as they grow, twice, no, five times their original sizes. You back up in horror and the ground under you crumbles.

The darkness you tumble into feels almost substantial, the air overheated and humid, the smell of blood still clogging your senses. You crash into the ground, the impact knocking the breath out of you and you hear and feel your leg bend strangely-

And a second later you're on both feet, braced up against the cave wall as ground shaking footsteps approach you, accompanied by heavy, panting breaths.

The creature that pads into the cavern is immense, easily forty feet tall and you can't get a good look at anything except for its gaping maw, teeth easily three times your size, breath hot and moist and stained with that awful smell that you’re now sure is ingrained into your nostrils.

The thing steps forward and you scramble back. A mocking, growling laugh echoes throughout the chamber as it moves forward again, forcing you back several feet. The process repeats until you find yourself pinned against a wall with the beast a scant few feet away. It closes the gap by reaching out and batting you to the floor before placing a firm foot on you. The paw pads are rough and hot, too hot against your skin and you struggle to no avail.

It presses down further, grunting with laughter as your ribs crack and break under its feet and you're choking, blood filling your mouth and nose and even dripping from the monster. It pools around you, filling the room and you're drowning for real, blood hot and heavy and pressing in on you from all sides and it's all you can taste and smell and feel-

 

 

\---Safe Past Here---

 

 

You jolt out of the dream with a sharp gasp, coughing and sputtering. Oh thank god, it's gone, you're not choking that thing is gone and there aren't any hands on you either even if the fear won't go away.

The sound of a deep voice urgently calling your name jolts you out of your thoughts and makes you jump. You yelp as you tumble off of the mattress and onto the floor.

Sans calls your name again as he scrambles to the side of his bed. A soft blue glow illuminates the room, emanating from a gently pulsing blue orb above your head. Remembering that Sans had called for you, you groan loudly in response.

“I can’t believe you let me fall off of the bed,” you say without venom. 

“It’s a two inch drop, I think you’re gonna be fine,” Sans replies. “What the heck just happened?”

You try to smile and give up when it comes out as more of a grimace before trying for normalcy. “Three.”

“What?”

“That is at least three inches.”

“Two and a half, and I’m not going any higher.”

You groan and roll over so that you’re looking at him. Despite your banter he still looks incredibly worried. 

“I’m fine, I swear. Just nightmares.”

“But you woke up? Before, I mean.”

“Wasn’t my nightmare.”

“Uh?” Sans asks, understandably confused.

Finally hearing the rustling you’d been expecting, accompanied by a muffled, confused sound from the room next door, you just grimace and hold up a finger. Sans looks over as pounding footsteps run down the hallway.

“YOU ASSHOLE!” a voice shouts from the doorway as Sans’ door bangs into the wall.

Frisk’s body flies through the doorway and into you, little fists flailing. After a few seconds of sitting there, surprised by their vehemence, you move as they land a rather solid hit on your nose. Your hands catch their much smaller wrists as a blue aura surrounds them and plants them firmly against the wall. They continue to struggle, a constant stream of profanity coming from their lips.

You exchange a troubled glance with Sans as you stand up. “I’m guessing we’re not talking to Frisk?”

The string of curses doesn’t halt, instead getting even louder. You grimace, taking that as your response.

“Okay, guess that answers that. Calm down Chara.”

“I will not calm down!” they shriek. “You, you invaded my head! None of that stuff is any of your business!”

You hold up your hands in surrender. “Yeah kiddo, and I’m sorry that I did that but I swear it was an accident. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies, NOW LET ME GO!” 

Papyrus skids into the room as they shout, looking disoriented. The kid had probably woken him up, poor guy.

“Kid, s’not very nice to go shoutin’ at this time of night,” Sans says pointedly.

“Fuck you, you smiley-” Chara’s cut off with a muffled shriek as Sans’ magic silences them. As much as you hate the idea of using force against the kid, you’re glad they weren’t allowed to continue as you hear footsteps thudding up the stairs.

“What’s going on?” Ferrin says as she runs into the room, halting in confusion at the sight before her.

“Nothing much,” you say, thinking fast. “Kid just had a nightmare and got disoriented.”

“Why were you calling Frisk by a different name?” Papyrus asks, confused.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ ‘bout bro,” Sans says.

The younger siblings’ eyes narrow in suspicion, and you internally prepare yourself for an argument. What actually ends up happening is worse. Ferrin’s face and posture freeze over in anger, and Papyrus sighs and pinches the strip of bone between his eye sockets. The tall skeleton actually looks tired for once, his excitement replaced by what you can only describe as dull acceptance.

“I suppose it was rather silly of me to expect you to stop lying to me, Sans,” he says, voice flat.

“Bro-”

Papyrus puts up a hand, effectively silencing his brother. “No, Sans. Just… no. Do whatever you wish. I am going to bed.”

Ferrin says nothing as both of them turn around and leave, leaving the two of you alone with Frisk and Chara.

“Good job sm-” 

_ -ily trashbag _ , Chara sneers.  _ Wh- Frisk! _

Sorry , Frisk signs.  I didn’t mean to let them do that. They were just so scared, so it affected me too.

“S’okay kid. C’mon, you can join us up here,” Sans offers. You suspect that has a lot to do with him not wanting them in his brother’s bedroom after Chara’s possession. You try not to think about what could have happened if Chara had decided to do damage. Dusty red scarves and bodiless forest green hearts are at the very bottom of the list of things you’d like to encounter tonight. Right under a hoard of ravenous zombies with chainsaws. Clown zombies. Clombies. 

Heh. Clombies. Not bad.

Wow you’re tired.

It takes some arranging, but pretty soon Frisk is happily sandwiched between the two of you. For some reason Chara has been silent the entire time, despite their apparent determination to beat you for eavesdropping. You make a mental note to ask Frisk about that in the morning before dropping off into an uneasy rest plagued by vague warnings and constantly shifting vines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Chara is having a nightmare, and Reader accidentally finds themselves in it. Chara's mother uses minor healing magics while their father is a herbalist. Chara is DFAB with a younger brother, Frances. They are attacked as witches in league with demons and their family attempts to flee. Chara is told to run away and hide, but eventually decides to go back and check on their family. The entire family was brutally killed, and their mother was raped. Chara is captured and shoved into the underground. Because this is a nightmare, instead of meeting Asriel, Chara is confronted by a giant beast that kills them. The nightmare ends here as Chara wakes up and Reader is expelled from their memories/nightmare.
> 
> A few notes here, just in case you'd like to know. MIR's Chara is agender, and no, it has nothing to do with the events of this chapter. They were always uncomfortable with using she/her or being referred to as female, but didn't know that there were any other options. They only discovered the concept after meeting the monsters. Several monsters lack a biological sex and so their definition of 'proper' genders is a lot looser than humanity's. Chara found out that they liked they/them more and settled on those.
> 
> Reader also deliberately chose to pretend like nothing is wrong. They're not sure that what they saw is real, they need more time to go over it, they're exhausted, they're not sure how to bring it up, etc etc. Point is they need time to go over everything and decide how to react, like anyone would in their situation.
> 
> Most of the nightmare is accurate, although some bits are slightly exaggerated (I've never had a nightmare about a real event that kept strictly to the event itself, so I figured that would be accurate) and obviously the ending is entirely fabricated. Nightmares do that kind of stuff I've found.
> 
> I'm very sorry if this chapter bothered anyone! Again, this is the darkest we'll be going.


	43. Step One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, sorry this took so long! Entirely my fault, I've had a lot going on these past few weeks. If you'd care for an explanation I have [ a post on my blog that should give you any and all information.](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/post/143718368821/delays/) My goal is to get this next chapter (which will likely be on the shorter side) done within the next few days, so we'll see how that one goes. Until then, enjoy!
> 
> Beta Reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)

The next morning you wake up to a near silent house. The two others in the bed with you are still sleeping soundly, for which you're grateful. Frisk doesn't tend to get a lot of sleep unless they're in bed with somebody else, and Sans rarely sleeps the whole night through even with you there. The two of them have more than earned a rest, so you slide out of the bed as quietly as you can.

Neither of them wake up, although Frisk does move closer to Sans. Their back is firmly against Sans’ ribcage, their head tucked just under where his arm connects to his shoulder blade. As you watch he shifts from lying on his back to curling around the child nestled against him. It's a tender moment and you suddenly realize that you absolutely must preserve it on your phone. Luckily you'd gotten it back from Ferrin with an angry demand to ‘never pull that crap again’. 

Photo saved onto your phone, you head into the hallway. You're guiltily relieved to find that Papyrus and Ferrin are already gone for the day. You probably owe them an apology and a real explanation, and while you're willing to apologize you doubt anyone is ready for an explanation. What the hell would you even say? ‘Hey guys, this cute adorable kid who’s shown no inclination towards violence is being possessed by a ghost who may or may not want to kill everyone and oh, by the by, that ghost was the human adopted by the monster’s royal family?’ It sounds like something out of a fiction novel, or a video game.

Hah, oh wait.

Even if Papyrus and Ferrin believed the story, knowing the two of them they would want to help Chara. You’ve got nothing against helping the kid. Hell, you’re all for helping the kid, and you’ll do your best to achieve that but… They’ve killed Papyrus, you know they have. You can’t - you won’t - risk Ferrin’s life, and Sans is bound to feel the same way.

You think the problem over as you set things up to make yourself your morning dose of caffeine. You’d lied last night mostly on instinct, and you were kind of regretting it now. Neither of them are idiots, they’re going to know something very much out of the ordinary went on last night. If you’re entirely honest with yourself you want to tell them the truth. The problem is you also want to protect your sister, and you’ve got to take Sans’ opinion into consideration. He’s got a good reason to want to keep this information from Papyrus - or a few hundred good reasons, if those notes in his lab are to be believed. Explaining everything to your younger siblings meant explaining that Chara, using Frisk’s body, had killed everyone underground, and tried to do the same above ground. It meant explaining that for every one time Chara had killed Sans, he’d killed them - and, by extension, Frisk - at least a dozen times in return. It meant explaining to his brother, the same brother who had looked his murderer in the face and told them that he believed in them, that he knew they could be a better person, that he’d killed a kid. That he’d impaled them the same way he’d impaled you, even when they’d offered mercy. 

Logically you’re sure he knows that Papyrus would never turn away from him for what he’s done, but you’re sure that no small part of Sans is absolutely terrified of just that. Add on the fact that he’s got to want to protect his brother’s innocent trust of everyone and it’s just too much to ask.

No, you won’t ask Sans to speak to his brother about this, even if it means that you have to lie to Ferrin. But maybe you can at least take her aside and explain that you can’t explain. 

Coffee brewing next to you, you slump up against the counter and draw your hand over your face. When the hell had things gotten so complicated? Oh, right, you’d gotten involved. Next time you decide to involve yourself in other’s lives maybe you’ll think twice, huh?

You snort at your own thoughts. Yeah, right. Ferrin’s worse than you are, but your soul tells it like it is - at the core of yourself resides a desire to protect the ones you love. You’d been doomed the second you’d started caring about the monsters, and despite everything you don’t really regret it.

Deciding to do something nice for Frisk after the events of last night, you grab the ingredients for pancakes and start cooking. The kid loves breakfast foods - cereal, waffles, eggs, french toast - but their absolute favorite are pancakes smothered in butter and syrup. As your hands fall into the familiar pattern, your mind wanders over the events of last night. Chara's dream specifically.

The dream - or at least you thought it had been a dream? It could’ve been a flashback or something similar, you’re honestly not sure - had been disturbing enough in and of itself, but you’re almost thoroughly convinced it was at least inspired by real events. It explained too much to be entirely fabricated; Chara’s belief that humans were bad, their protectiveness of Frisk - although you suspect that also ties in with Asriel’s death -, their earlier anger at your implication that their parents had been anything less than perfect, and, going further back, how they even ended up here in the first place as well as their willingness to accept the monsters as their new family. Even their willingness to die for the monsters suddenly made a disturbing amount of sense, considering how guilty they probably felt for being the only one of their family to survive.

Okay, so Chara has good reasons for being so bitter. That doesn’t excuse their behavior, or even really explain it. You sigh and flip the pancakes over, poking at them moodily. It feels like Gaster picked the wrong helper - a licensed psychiatrist seems to be what these guys need, not a reclusive author. Or maybe a detective. You’re feeling severely under qualified in the face of everything you’ve got to do here. 

At least the thought of that smug ass being wrong gives you a feeling of vengeful happiness. Wait, no, back to the point. Revenge nice, actual solutions better.

Or paranoid concerns, because that’s just about all you’ve got.

Sure, after you'd seen their dream last night Chara had probably acted out of anger and surprise, but would their desire for revenge be gone now that they've had some time to think about it? Or were they plotting their revenge even now? Would they force Frisk to fight for them? Would they stop at you, or go on to kill everyone underground?

You feel a jolt of fear when you realize a murder everyone route would now include your sister. Sure, the idea of everyone down here dying is awful, but you're not responsible for their safety. You’d do anything in your power to help them once you knew Ferrin was safe, but she was always your top priority. Even if she is angry, even if she never wanted to see you again, you’d still want to protect your baby sister. But what use is love against determination? Sans has already proven that a desire to protect is less than useless against the ability to access save files, and your magic is only good for defense anyway. You're just free EXP as far as a murderous Chara is concerned.

Your unsettled mind recalls Papyrus’ description in a no mercy run. ‘Forgettable.’ Is that what they would think when they cut Ferrin down? When they cut you down? Could you fight back knowing Frisk was trapped in there, unable to even scream? Would you be-

A small hand tugging on your sleeve pulls you back to reality with a spark of sheer terror. You barely hold back a screech of surprise as Frisk sleepily rubs one of their eyes.

‘ Morning , they sign.  Are you making breakfast?

Thank god. If they're signing you're dealing with Frisk, not Chara. You hope. You manage a smile, reaching down and ruffling their already messy hair as your heartbeat rings like thunder in your ears. “Yeah kiddo, I'm making pancakes. Sit down at the table and I'll bring them over to you when they're ready.”

They nod and follow your instructions, yawning widely. Luckily the pancakes you'd been cooking when you'd blanked out had just barely been poured, so while they're a little overcooked they're not burnt. You plate them up and put a plate in front of Frisk, who signs a quick thanks before digging in.

You go back to flipping pancakes and the room falls into an easy quiet broken by the sizzle of the grill and the scrape of utensils on a plate. A few minutes later familiar arms snake their way around your waist, followed by a skull pressed against your shoulder.

“Mornin’,” Sans says sleepily.

“Good morning to you too,” you reply, turning away from the stove to give him a quick kiss. You've got a lot to figure out… but not until after breakfast.

  
  
  
  


It's a few hours before you're able to make yourself bring up the events of last night. The three of you are lounging on the couch together. Your worried comments about Sans needing to go to work had been casually brushed off. You'd been a bit irritated at that until, following a more insistent protest, Sans had given you a very pointed look behind Frisk's back, gaze flickering back and forth between them and you until you'd gotten the message. He was refusing to leave you alone with Frisk until he knew they weren't a threat. In a way you guess that he is doing his sentry job by keeping a close eye socket on them. Knowing he wouldn't leave you alone with a possible threat, you'd given up on your protests. Honestly, you're glad he's there even if you won't say it out loud.

Still, some things need to be discussed and sitting there watching Mettaton act out a really awful drama - and by that you mean watching expertly edited and acted clips where Mettaton is literally all of the characters, creating a somewhat confusing storyline that isn't helped by its similarity to most human sitcoms - isn't fixing the problem. 

Resigned, you turn to Frisk and start the conversation as delicately as possible. “I haven't heard from Chara today?” you ask, turning the statement into a question. While Chara rarely contributed to conversations, they usually had something to say. That they'd been silent the entire day, not even commenting on your near burning of breakfast, was strange.

Frisk looks uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.  It's because they're… sleeping.

“They need to sleep?” you ask in surprise. They'd always been awake when you'd been up, so you'd kind of assumed they never slept, even though you’d been calling the brief flash of their memories a dream.

No. Yes? I don't know how to explain it , Frisk confesses.  They're… recovering, I guess?

“From last night?” you ask, sensing more than seeing Sans’ sudden interest in the conversation.

Yeah. It makes them tired when they do that, unless… 

“Unless?”

Unless they have LOVE. Frisk looks away from you, lower lip trembling.  Or if I’m too tired to fight them off.

And now you feel awful for making them talk about this, damn it. You gather your determination and keep going. “Frisk, I know you probably don't want to talk about it but we need to know more about what happened last night,” you say gently.

Frisk refuses to meet your eyes, expression hesitant.

“You don't want to talk to us?” you ask.

No, that's not… Chara wouldn't like me talking about it. They were so mad that you saw the bad dream. What if they get mad at me for telling you?

“Sometimes keeping secrets, even when the other person doesn't want to talk about them, is bad,” you say, trying to coax them out of their shell.

But you guys keep secrets too! Like last night with Ferrin and Papyrus , they protest. Leave it to a kid to call you out on being a hypocrite.

“That was different, kiddo,” Sans interjects. “Paps and Ferrin aren't bein’ hurt by us keepin’ a few secrets.”

“And you saw what happened, right? We kept secrets from them, and they got angry with us for it,” you add. A true case of do as I say, not as I do.

Frisk fidgets, wringing their hands. They crawl from their spot on the couch to sit in your lap, and you wrap your arms around them as comfortingly as you can, resting your chin on their head. This poor kid… Sometimes you forget that they’re only twelve.

Ready , they sign so that you can see. Not being able to see them from the front is probably going to mean guessing at some of their signs, but if it’s comforting to them you’ll do your best.

“How about we start small?” you suggest, continuing when Frisk nods. “Alright. The dream last night. the one where Chara fell underground, do they have that one a lot?”

When we’re down here yeah. Every few days.

“And they got control of you because you were scared by their nightmare?”

They nod.  I'm sorry. I know that they said mean things but they didn't really mean it.

“Kid, ya don't have to apologize for them. ‘Sides, I'm pretty sure they meant exactly what they said,” Sans says.

No! They didn't really, they actually really like [Your name] and even though they're kinda scared of you they still think you're really cool Sans!

“Uh huh,” Sans says skeptically, raising a brow.

It’s true! They're really impressed by your fighting abilities, and they like that you try to protect me when we're aboveground, and they kinda think that the two of you are similar, so they sort of like you while still also being jealous and hating that you're so good at beating them , Frisk signs, hands moving almost too quickly for you to follow.

“I am in no way similar to that piece of- that brat,” Sans growls. His glare is directed at the television - where Mettaton is confessing his undying love to Mettaton, even though Mettaton is already married and Mettaton has a mysterious past with a brutally murdered lover (Okay so you’re paying attention! His acting is good, even if the story is overly complicated and filled with plot holes.) - but Frisk still flinches away. He notices, expression softening. “Sorry kid, didn't mean to scare ya. Lost my temper there for a sec. Promise I found it again. Why’s Chara think we're similar?”

Frisk wrings their hands as they think before beginning.  Well, you're the older, more bitter sibling who protects their more innocent younger brother. And you kinda hate humans because they punished you even though you didn't do anything. And when Papyrus is hurt you get revenge, like they try to whenever they're in control and we… leave. Just stuff like that.

Sans opens his mouth, presumably to argue his case, then slowly closes it, looking uncomfortable. Being compared to Chara would be a disturbing experience for most, but being unable to even effectively argue that they were wrong is worse. You reach over and grab his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. He seems to steady himself before squeezing back and pulling away.

Sorry , Frisk signs, curling in on themselves.’

“Frisk,” you say firmly, “Stop apologizing for Chara. Their actions are their own and they should be the one apologizing for them.”

But they’re using my body!

You hesitate, unsure of how to proceed, before an idea comes to mind.

“Sans, give me your arm,” you say, holding out your hand. Sans looks confused, but does as instructed. You use his hand to mess up Frisk’s hair, causing them to giggle and squirm. “Alrighty kiddo, your hair’s now a giant rat’s nest. Whose fault is that?”

Yours!

“But I used Sans’ hand, doesn’t that make it his fault?”

Of course not! You were the one controlling… Oh. But it’s my fault that Chara can possess me in the first place?

“By that reasoning then it is Sans’ fault that your hair’s messy. I asked for his hand, didn’t I? He could have said no, right?”

I… Yeah? I think?

“[Your name]’s right kiddo,” Sans adds, shooting you a grateful look. “You’re not responsible for what they do.”

When Frisk continues wringing their hands uncertainly, you know something is wrong. “What’s up Frisk? Is something else the matter?”

Frisk shakes their head, refusing to look up.

Sans looks at them sadly. “Kiddo, we won’t make ya talk ‘bout it if ya don’t wanna. Some things are better off shared though, and we ain’t gonna get mad at ya either.”

The kid in your lap holds out a bit longer before the dam breaks, their fingers moving too quickly for you to read them. Sans apparently doesn’t have the same problem, his smile dipping into an expression both sad and regretful. Frisk trembles against you, their hands pulled tight against their chest once they finish.

“Frisk,” Sans says solemnly. Frisk shudders against you, latching onto your shirt with shaking hands. Your arms tighten around them in response, and a moment later Sans’ join in, the skeleton pulling both of you into a tight hug.

The three of you stay like that until Sans begins speaking again, voice low and comforting. “Frisk. I do love ya, alright kiddo? You’re like a second sibling to me, and ya know how much I care ‘bout my siblings. And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry kiddo. I’m sorry that sometimes I can’t stop myself from rememberin’ when I see ya with a knife, or sometimes even for no reason. I’m sorry I couldn’t accept your mercy in the Judgement Hall, even though I knew it was you offerin’ it to me. I’m sorry I can’t fix all of this for ya kiddo… But I can promise that I love ya, and ya know I don’t promise things I don’t mean, right?”

You can feel Frisk nodding against your chest. You almost throw in your two cents, remind Frisk that you love them too… but this isn’t something you’re a part of. The trust between these two has been tested and broken more times than anyone wants to count. That either is still willing to try is nothing short of amazing.

Frisk wriggles out of the group hug just enough to sign so that both of you can see.  Do we have to keep talking about last night?

“No. You’ve done enough, thank you Frisk,” you say.

Okay. The new episode is on, can we watch it?

You nod, and their eyes are instantly fixed on the television screen. Perhaps too instantly, but at least they’re trying to distract themselves. You share a concerned glance with Sans over their head, but decide that there isn’t much you can do about it. Frisk has enough on their shoulders without ever having to worry about the fate of an entire group of people.

Chara is still disturbingly absent, and it’s odd to realize that you’ve already grown accustomed to their presence in your head. They were a generally cranky kid, often making sarcastic comments or criticizing your actions, sure, but you almost… miss them? 

You lean back, huffing out a sigh. Whatever else Chara is, whatever they have or haven’t done… They’re still a kid. Call you an optimist, unrealistic, or just a damn fool, but you want to fix this mess. You weren’t wrong before - you’re probably not the ideal person for this job. You really might as well be trying to find your way through a maze blind with both of your hands tied behind your back. But this is one puzzle that you’re dead set on solving. You could even say you’re determined to do so.

  
  


\------------------

  
  


Ferrin and Papyrus left the house early, knowing that neither of their siblings would be awake at that hour. At her request they’d gone into Waterfall, trekking through the mud that sucked at their shoes with every step. Despite her low spirits she couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of the place. Papyrus insisted on steering clear of several areas of the swamplands, claiming that he wanted to introduce his new best friend to his other best friend when neither of them were coated in mud.

Following an interesting (albeit one sided) conversation with what looked like several jello cups stacked on top of each other, the two of them are slightly more cheerful as they wade through a shallow pond.

At the opposite shore, Papyrus grabs ahold of one of the brightly glowing blue plants he’d called Echo flowers and gestures her closer. She kneels beside him and pokes the petals.

“It’s so pretty,” she says in wonder.

“It’s so pretty,” the flower echoes back.

Ferrin jumps back in surprise and falls with a small ‘oof’.

“Are you alright friend?” Papyrus shouts in concern, and Ferrin gasps in wonder as the flowers nearest them pick up on the sound, echoing it back at them in a chorus of slightly quieter voices.

“Holy hells,” she whispers, looking around.

Papyrus looks at her sheepishly. “My most sincere apologies Ferrin! I wanted to surprise you, I did not consider the possibility that you would be frightened by the Echo flowers!”

Ferrin laughs, waving him off. “Nah, don’t worry about it Paps. I’m just not used to all of this magic everywhere. It’s all so strange!”

“Does it frighten you? We could return to my home, or to Snowdin’s forest?”

“No, no! It’s not scary Paps, it’s amazing! I mean, this is the kinda stuff you only hear about in fairy tales. Living, sentient skeletons, flowers that echo your words back to you, evil mages, monsters that want to be your friend… It’s, well, magical,” she says, laughing sheepishly as she realizes she’s speaking with such enthusiasm.

“But of course! We are made of magic, after all,” Papyrus says, smiling in happiness. What had she been thinking? If anyone was going to encourage enthusiasm, it was Paps.

She laughs, high and cheerful, the flowers echoing it back at her. “Magic is freaking great! God, I wish I could use it.”

“But you can!” Papyrus declares.

“I can?”

“Well, in a manner of speaking. These flowers are magic, after all!” Papyrus says cheerfully. “Go to that flower over there.”

Ferrin follows his instructions, ending up across from Papyrus.

“Okay, when I say so, shout something as loudly as you can!” he says.

“But what should I say?”

“Anything!”

She takes a few moments to consider before grinning widely. Perfect. “I’m ready whenever you are!”

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

“I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

“I’M THE FANTASTIC FERRIN!”

The cavern echoes with the flower’s repetitions of their words, mixing them together and jumbling their sentences until they were unrecognizable. The two friends laugh loudly before fleeing the scene, the flower’s voices echoing behind them.

“That was great! Will they just keep doing that for forever?” Ferrin asks, gasping from laughter and exertion.

“No, but they will do so for quite a while!” Papyrus says cheerfully, not in the least winded. Probably something to do with not having lungs.

Ferrin is about to suggest that they play with more of the Echo flowers when she’s interrupted by a cheery voice to their left.

“Why, I never would've expected to see you here! Howdy!”

Ferrin turns to see Flowey smiling cheerfully at the two of them from the middle of a smaller cave branching off from the one they’re in. The two of them run over enthusiastically, stopping a few feet from the bright yellow flower.

“Flowery!” Papyrus shouts, kneeling down so that the flower is closer to his height. “It is so very good to see you!”

“Flowery, huh?” Ferrin asks, raising an eyebrow. The flower looks identical to the one she'd met on the Ruins, but she supposes there could be more than one flower monster.

“Oh! My mistake, I see that it falls upon me to introduce my two good friends to each other! Ferrin, please allow me to introduce my good friend Flowery! Flowery, this is Ferrin!” Papyrus says brightly.

The bobbing flower’s expression shifts briefly before settling back to a friendly grin. “Papyrus, don't be silly, my name is Flowey!” 

“Oh dear! My most sincere apologies, friend!” Papyrus says, looking distraught.

“He he! Don't worry, I don't mind. It's so nice to see my best friends again!” Flowey says cheerfully.

Ferrin grins and crouches down so she won't tower over the small flower. “It's great to see you too Flowey. How have you been?”

“Oh, you know, same old same old!” he giggles. “I don't get up to much of anything. How about the two of you? Did you ever find that sibling if yours Ferrin?”

Ferrin smiles uncomfortably. “Yeah, I found them.”

Flowey's expression changes to one of obvious concern. “Is something wrong friend? You don't look very happy.”

“I'm fine,” she reassures him. “We just got in a little argument, nothing major.”

“I am not entirely sure that our sibling’s reluctance to be honest with us is something that is not major,” Papyrus says, sighing.

“Oh dear! Did something happen?”

Papyrus grimaces. “We are currently… at odds, I suppose, with our siblings.”

“Oh?” Flowey asks curiously.

“Yeah, we kinda left the house to escape them,” Ferrin adds.

“But what on earth happened? You're all so close!”

“You'd think so,” Ferrin mutters mutinously.

Papyrus sighs. “They intend only the best, we know. It does not prevent their actions from being absolutely infuriating, however.”

When Flowey only blinks in confusion, Papyrus continues. “There was an odd incident last night with the small human. We were sleeping soundly when all of the sudden they sprung out of bed and raced into Sans’ room, shouting and cursing! It was very strange, I have never seen my friend act in such a manner before. And they so rarely speak, it was an odd experience!”

“Wait, they were shouting?” Flowey asks, the grin on his face falling.

“Yeah, it's pretty weird, the kid’s usually so quiet. Papyrus thinks he heard my sibling call them by a different name too,” Ferrin adds.

“What did the name sound like?” Flowey demands. 

Ferrin startles a bit at the sudden change in tone, and Papyrus blinks in surprise before responding, “I am afraid that I may not have heard them correctly, but I-”

“Get to the point!” Flowey snaps.

“Hey! Flowey that isn't very-” Ferrin begins.

“Shut up! Papyrus, what was the name?” Flowey demands, his typically cheerful demeanor swapped out for something quite a bit more sinister.

“I... “ Papyrus hesitates, staring down at the flower in confusion. “Is something amiss, Flowey? You are acting very oddly.”

“No! Nothing is wrong you wo-” Flowey cuts himself off sharply, his expression morphing into a sickly sweet smile. “I’m so sorry friends! I’ve just had a very long day, you understand, right?”

“But of course! What kind of friend would I be were I not willing to forgive a slight mishap such as this?” Papyrus asks, apparently mollified.

Ferrin still has doubts, but smiles down at the flower anyways. Forgiveness is important, even if something about Flowey's behavior seems off.

“So… I hate to bug you again, but what  _ was _ that name?” Flowey asks innocently.

“I really am not sure that I heard it accurately, but it sounded like they said Chara,” Papyrus says thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is a very popular name amongst humans?”

“I've actually never heard that one before,” Ferrin says. “Why would you assume that it is?”

“Because Papyrus here is an idiot,” Flowey says casually, still smiling cheerfully. The image is in such stark contrast to his words that Ferrin fumbles for a minute before responding.

“What the hell Flowey? That isn't true, and it certainly isn't something you say about a friend!” Ferrin says, frowning at him.

Flowey's leaves move in the flower’s approximation of a shrug. “I mean, he is an idiot. Trust me, I'd know.”

“No, you would not,” Ferrin snaps, grabbing ahold of Papyrus’ shoulder and pulling him with her as she stands up, “And no matter how bad your day has been you’ve got no right to insult Paps like that!”

“Ferrin it is alright, I am sure there is a good explanation for this! Flowey is my friend, he would not insult me for no reason. Perhaps we are merely speaking to someone who happens to look like Flowey?” Papyrus suggests hopefully.

Ferrin nods but continues trying to pulling him away. Papyrus, reluctant to be rude to the flower even if it was insulting him, digs in his heels, refusing to budge. “Paps, come on, whatever is going on we need to leave-”

“Papyrus, remember how I told you last week that if you weren't careful someone you trusted would end up hurting you?” Flowey asks, studying his leaves as though he's disinterested in the conversation.

Surprised, Papyrus glances back at Ferrin, then gasps.

“What's wrong?” she asks, glancing down at herself. Below her feet, dozens - no, hundreds of dull green vines stretch across the ground. A quick glance confirms that they cover the rest of the cavern as well. Papyrus has found the real problem, however; the only exit to the room is sealed off with vines so thick that even the blue glow from the outside is cut off.

“That was a promise, not a warning,” Flowey drawls, a snide smirk on his face. 

Papyrus, having overcome his initial shock, frowns down at the bobbing flower. “Flowey! This is entirely inappropriate behavior! I know that you only do this out of a desire to spend more time with me, but this is not the appropriate way to request more time together!”

Flowey looks at Ferrin with a bored expression. “Hate to say I told you so, but the boy’s an idiot.”

“Flowey, you need to let us go,” Ferrin says sternly, masking her fear.

Flowey taps a leaf to one of his lower petals. “You know… I don’t really think that I do.”

Pressure snakes its way up her torso and she shrieks when she sees that the feeling comes from the vines that were under her feet. They’ve made their way up her body and she’s now helpless to fight them as they twine around her arms, locking them to her side. Papyrus beside her is in a similar situation, struggling to break free of his restraints. She tries to shout for help as they slide up her neck, only to have her words cut off half way as a few of them cover her mouth. 

Immobilized but apparently undefeated, Papyrus sends her a reassuring look as bones appear in the air above Flowey.

He sighs in exasperation, glaring up at them. “Really? You’re still trying to get out of this without ‘doing a violence’, huh? Pathetic.”

A wriggling ball of vines appears from behind them, moving until it’s beside their captor. “You guys see this, right?”

Without waiting for a response, the vines part to reveal one of the Jell-o like creatures frantically trying to escape. 

“If you try to fight me again, this will keep happening,” Flowey says.

Flowey constricts the poor thing as they first shriek in pain and then run out of air. Papyrus appears to be trying to speak through his gag, probably trying to beg for mercy for the defenseless monster. Flowey ignores him entirely, and the two of them are gagged, unwilling observers as the monster shudders once more before crumbling to dust. The vines that had held it still thud against each other dully as silvery dust trickles onto the cavern floor.

“I’m not sure that was clear enough to make it’s way through your thick skull,” Flowey says in the kind of slow, over-enunciated way that adults use when speaking to small children, “So let me be clear. If you do that again, the next one to go is the human. After that we’ll just pick off whichever poor, unfortunate monster I come by first. Do you understand?”

Papyrus nods, orange tears slipping from his eye sockets.

Flowey looks away, now ignoring them completely. He mutters to himself as they watch, expression… worried? 

“Chara… said things I shouldn't have…. have to apologize…. Why would…. No, no… maybe. I could…? No….”

Many long minutes into this muttered diatribe, Flowey’s gaze snaps up to look at the two of them. “You, human. Have you spoken to Chara?”

The vines keeping her from speaking move aside. “What the hell is wrong with-”

Ferrin breaks off with a choked noise of pain. Flowey has her right index finger in a tight grip, just shy of snapping the bone entirely.

“Aw, does that hurt?” he asks, voice dripping with sympathy before twisting into dark glee. “Good. Answer the question or I snap your finger.”

“You wouldn't,” Ferrin whispers. People don't do stuff like this - sure, there were a few bad eggs, she knows that but surely he wouldn't…?

Flowey's sadistic grin never falters.

With a snap like a carrot being broken in two her bone cracks under the pressure put on it. White hot pain shoots up her arm and she screams, the sound now stuck on repeat by the few Echo flowers around the room. Papyrus looks sickened as he redoubles his thrashing. It doesn't appear to have any effect on Flowey, who ignores him entirely.

Flowey grins. “Music to my ears. Now, answer the question or I'll break the next one.”

Ferrin gasps in pain, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone an entire sentence. The grip on her middle finger tightens and she struggles, spikes of pain shooting from her broken finger.

“No, no no no, I'll talk, I'll talk!” she shouts.

“Good,” Flower croons. “But that wasn't what I wanted to hear.”

The sound of breaking bone isn't any more pleasant to hear a second time, and if Ferrin thought that the pain couldn't get any worse she’s proven wrong. She shrieks in pain again before going limp, trying and failing not to make small, pathetic whimpers.

“Are you going to make me do this all night? I mean torture was fun the first few resets but it does get a bit boring after a while. Although it has been a long time, maybe I'll be able to enjoy myself… Of course once I finish with your fingers I'll have to pick something else. Toes maybe? Papyrus and I had fun with ribs, now didn't we Papyrus?” 

When his prodding fails to get him a response he sighs. “Oh come on, you haven't passed out already, have you?”

The vines graze her broken fingers, causing another shout. “I'm awake! I just.. I forgot the question, but I'll answer it I swear!”

“Good to hear!” Flowey says cheerfully. For a moment he considers breaking another finger for that alone, but decides against it. Ferrin obviously isn't accustomed to pain and he really doesn't feel like having to heal her up before he can continue interrogating her. Instead he just jostles the other fingers carefully, just enough to cause another yelp of pain. “That's your last warning though! I want to know if you've ever spoken to Chara, or to Frisk when they're speaking out loud.”

“I don't know anyone named Chara and the first time I heard Frisk speak was last night,” Ferrin says quickly. This wasn't anything that had to be kept secret, surely it was okay to answer these questions?

Flowey's grin widens. “Good! See, that wasn't so hard! Next question! Where are your siblings right now?”

“At Pap’s house.”

“Are they going to stay there today?”

“I'm not sure,” Ferrin says. She hopes that will deter Flowey from whatever he's planning, but he just looks thoughtful.

“Hmmm… Well, I can work with that. What about Toriel and the other skeleton?”

“I don't… know,” Ferrin confesses, flinching in anticipated pain.

Flowey laughs. “Awh, are you really that eager for more?”

She wisely keeps her mouth shut, eyes wide in fear. 

“Silly goose,” he giggles. “I can't punish you for not knowing something! That's against the rules!”

It isn't, of course. There are no rules. Flowey can play with his toys as he pleases. But he's found that people in these kinds of situations will actually believe that he has rules - as long as he sticks to them for a little while. They get comfortable in the belief that as long as they behave according to these fictional rules they won't be punished. Their expressions when he then breaks the rules, their stammered reminders that his actions aren't following them, the betrayal - yes, betrayal, even though he was their captor and torturer - when they found out that he'd done this on purpose… It made all of the effort and teeth gnashing worthwhile. He'd found a million ways to break a person, but there were few he enjoyed more.

“Alrighty, good job lasting for so long! Just one last question now… Would you like to become a god?” Flowey asks.

“W-what?”

He tuts, shaking his head. “That wasn’t an answer…”

“No!”

He pauses, vines millimeters away from breaking a third finger. “No, don’t break your finger, or no, you don’t want to be a god?”

“Both?” she says tentatively.

“Ugh,” he says, grimacing. It would have made his job so much easier, but a forced agreement is worth less than nothing, he'd learned. “Predictably annoying. Oh well, I don’t want your stupid soul anyways. Kindess, how disgusting.”

“You could learn something from her! Please, Flowey, you are better than this, I know you are,” Papyrus begs, vines temporarily loose enough for him to speak.

Another snap comes from the vines holding Ferrin’s hand, and she screams again before going limp. Papyrus makes a choked noise of sympathy and concern, earning him a scowl from Flowey.

“That was  _ your _ fault. I was going to let her get away with that one until you opened your big fat mouth. I’m evil, Papyrus. Evil isn’t ‘better than this’.

With Papyrus finally keeping his big mouth shut, Flowey shoots Ferrin a look of disgust before prodding her limp body. When she doesn't respond he scowls before sending a single green pellet flying towards her. A few moments after it sinks into her skin her eyes blink open groggily, refusing to look at her abused hand. The single healing bullet had been enough to wake her, but not enough to fix the damage.

“Alrighty, well, that’s everything I need to know! Thank you sooo much for your contribution, you’ve done so much for me! I mean, after all, none of this would have been possible without you!” Flowey says, reverting back to his eerie cheerfulness.

Ferrin glares back at him dully and he giggles. “No, really! That idiot king didn't even notice when I took the souls yesterday, because you were distracting him!”

Papyrus, amazingly enough, still seems to believe that there are lines Flowey won’t cross. “Flowey, how could you? Those souls are of the utmost importance, you cannot just steal them from King Asgore!”

“Oh, shut up you idiot,” Flowey sneers. “The king hasn't been using them right anyways. He could've set you all free  _ ages _ ago if he'd been brave enough. All he had to do was absorb one little soul, but he was too scared. He's an idiot, just like you! Stupid.  _ PAtheTic _ .  **worTHlEsS** .”

As he had spoken Flowey's face had slowly melted, springing back to normal as he continues with, “But that doesn't matter anymore. Once I've gotten back my ability to reset, I'm never gonna give it up again. Don't know what I was thinking last time, but well, that's what having a soul does to you! They're worthless pieces of garbage honestly, don't know why you all want them so badly. What use is love anyways? Compassion? Sorrow? Happiness? Souls, emotions, they just make you into an idiot, really.

“Besides,” he adds, shrugging, “This really is all your fault. I never would have been able to get to the souls if Asgore hadn't been so distracted by all of the humans who were suddenly underground, and then you had to bring Toriel into it too! Oh man, he was  _ so _ worried about her that he left the souls at my mercy! I should be thanking you for distracting that old fool for me!

“And now… well. Now I'm going to replace him as king! And when I do, monsters will finally understand that in this world, it's  **KilL oR be** **_kILLeD!_ ** ”

Flowey cackles, demented laughter echoing off of the walls of the cave for a solid minute. He looks at his prisoners as though expecting a response, and when both of them just continue staring at him in shock and horror, Flowey sighs. “Honesty don't know what I was expecting from the two biggest fools in the underground. Whatever. My point is…”

His smile spreads until it almost can't fit on his face, sharp teeth glistening in the dim light of the caverns. “... I'm going to have a really,  _ really _ good time!”   
Cackling, he pulls the both of them closer, demented smile stretching impossibly further. “You two aren't even important, really. I'm going to use you to get revenge on the smiley trash bag and his trash datemate… And you're not worth any more to me alive than you are dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually looked up the sound a bone makes when it breaks so that I could write this. (It's just as nauseating as it sounds like it would be.)
> 
> Posting this before I head off to work, hopefully I won't be too tired to answer comments tonight!


	44. Lost And Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm so sorry about the wait, things just keep coming up and this darn chapter didn't want to work with me. I had to go back to the game's given information to figure a few things out, yada yada. Point is the next chapter is already halfway written and will hopefully be up soon (but no guarantees, because things just don't want to work out for some reason).
> 
> My super awesome beta reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Fanfiction/Undertale Specific Tumblr: [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

You know something’s wrong when the clock strikes a minute past seven in the evening and Papyrus hasn’t come in through the front door with a loud greeting. Papyrus is always on time - he’s just one of those people who lives and breathes by a schedule. He’s never home past seven o’clock at night. Never.

You start fidgeting, moving things around, unable to find a comfortable position on the couch. Sans’ worry is less active but no less evident - his eye lights are in a constant cycle between the television screen, the door and the windows, never resting on one for any length of time.

As the clock’s hands slowly limp towards eight o’clock, you shoot to your feet. “Sans, something is wrong.”

“They musta been pretty angry when they left. Maybe they’re just… I dunno, avoiding us,” he suggests, voice clearly conveying his doubt.

“This late?” you ask, glancing at the clock.

“I know, trust me, I’m worried ‘bout them too,” Sans says darkly.

“Toriel still hasn’t seen them?”

San shakes his head no. You force yourself to relax enough to take your seat on the couch again.

It’s going to be okay , Frisk signs, patting you on the knee.

You give them your best approximation of a smile. “I know kiddo. Thanks.”

  


An hour later you put Frisk to bed and come downstairs to find Sans on the phone.

“-so ya haven’t seen ‘em?” he asks, sighing at whatever the response is. “No, that’s fine. Yeah I’m gonna head over there now. No, thanks. Will do. Thanks again Grillbz.”

“He hasn’t seen them?” you ask.

“Nope,” Sans replies, shuffling into his shoes. “I’m gonna go talk to the dogs, see if any of ‘em have heard from them. Ya can come if ya want, but it’s probably not a good idea considering.”

“No, it’s fine. Just let me know if they’ve got anything.”

 

 

They don’t. Nobody Sans speaks to has heard from either of your siblings all day. He comes home even more anxious than before, sliding his phone from his pocket with a sigh.

“I didn’t wanna call her, but-”

“Do it. If Undyne knows anything it’ll be worth it,” you say, already knowing what he was about to ask.

Sans nods and dials the Captain of the Royal Guard, putting the phone on speaker.

“What?” she demands grumpily, picking up on the third ring.

“You heard from Paps today?” Sans asks.

“No, I haven’t. Why?” she asks, voice still full of barely suppressed anger.

“‘Cause he’s been gone since this morning,” Sans says, wisely skipping over the fact that Ferrin has too.

“WHAT?!” Undyne screeches. “Where are the humans?!”

“Two’re with me, the other one’s missin’ too.”

Undyne falls silent, but you can feel the fury raging behind the receiver. “Sans I swear by Asgore and the Delta Rune that if you’re pulling my leg-”

“Not about my bro.”

The other side of the line is silent once more before Undyne says, “I’ll put out a search for Papyrus and the human.”

“Thanks. We’ll-”

“Don’t thank me. If he’s… if he’s hurt and I have even the tiniest possibility of it being one of those humans I’m coming down there myself and taking all of their souls before I fucking dust you. You hear me?” Undyne’s voice is dangerously quiet, words nearly hissed.

“Got it. Thanks.”

“We probably won’t be able to find anything tonight. Which human is missing?”

Sans describes Ferrin briefly, adding, “Don’t ya dare hurt her if ya find her Undyne. She hasn’t done anythin’.”

“Whatever. Keep the other two with you or I’ll kill them on sight. Actually, you’d better stay at home too. I don’t want to see your smug mug out here.”

Sans looks like he’s about to object, but Undyne hangs up with a furious sound. Sans just sighs, pocketing the phone and drawing a hand over his face. “Looks like we’re on house arrest.”

“You don’t think she’d really do anything?”

“She would. To you or Frisk at least. Let’s just leave it to the pros, huh?”

Sans is obviously as reluctant as you are to do nothing about the situation, but there isn’t much either of you can do. It’s the underground’s ‘night’ currently, with the only light coming from the few glowing stones embedded in the ceiling overhead. Neither of you would be of much help in a search even if you did leave the house.

Still, you can’t sleep. You both spend the night on the couch, neither really watching whatever is on the television. The hours tick by so slowly that you’re convinced the clock is broken. You glance at the television screen at two in the morning to find that it’s display is entirely covered in static. You wonder when that happened.

You can’t help glancing at your phone every few minutes, despite knowing that your phone couldn’t receive any signals underground. Sans does the same, flicking his phone on and off. You shoot off the couch and start pacing, anything to get rid of the terrible fear that’s taken up residence in your chest. After a while you sit down again, stare at the television screen once more.

The next morning finds you once again pacing the living room, glancing at the clock in worry. Sans’ worry is less feverish but no less acute - he hasn’t fallen asleep the entire night, just sitting on the couch staring at the door like he’s hoping for the two of them to come bursting in at any moment. The ‘night’ hours slip by one by one as you wait, nerves strung so tightly that Sans shifting on the couch has your pulse skyrocketing as you jump a few feet into the air in shock.

The glacially slow crawl of the clock eventually nudges into the morning hours, and the underground begins to grow lighter. Still there is nothing from Undyne, and your mind draws up increasingly terrible scenarios.

Finally, as the clock’s hour hand moves to point at the six, you can’t take it any more. “I don’t care if Undyne kills me - I’m going out to look.”

“I’m goin’ with ya,” Sans says instantly, standing up from the couch.

You drop off a very groggy Frisk with Toriel, doing your best to assure the kid that nothing’s gone wrong and you two are going to be able to find your siblings just fine. Frisk catches onto your fear anyway, putting up a brave front and signing that everything would be fine. It breaks your heart to know the kid’s trying to comfort you when they must be suffering, but you just put on your best smile and give them a hug before leaving.

Your breath catches when you see the black cloaks in front of Sans’ house. Your feet move without conscious thought on your part and you skid to a halt before them.

“Did you find them?” you ask, voice filled with every ounce of the hope that’s rushing through your chest. They turn, and you feel it die, crumbling into sickly fear. Both dogs look mournful, and Dogaressa’s eyes are just slightly bloodshot from crying. Sans, framed in the doorway, has an awful rictus of a grin on his face, eye sockets black pits in his face.

“We are very sorry,” Dogaressa says softly.

“We found… remains, in Waterfall,” Dogamy says, voice equally gentle.

“We have reason to believe that they are those of your siblings.”

You can feel the world trying to crash around you, unable to breathe through the blockage in your throat, mind scrambling to find some way, any way that these two could be wrong-

“Where.”

The dog couple looks at each other before Dogaressa begins, “My dear, we think perhaps it would be best-”

“I have to see it for myself,” you say numbly.

“My wife and I think it might be best if you did not-”

You stop listening, turning away and walking towards the border between Waterfall and Snowdin. The dog couple cry out behind you, but you shut out their voices. It’s only when you run into something hard and unyielding that you stagger to a stop.

“What’re ya doin’?” Sans asks. His voice sounds defeated, like he’s lost… well, like he’s lost the most important thing in his life. You know the feeling.

“I can’t… I have to see it for myself. I know they’re probably right but... “

“It doesn’t feel real,” he finishes.

“Yeah. You don’t have to come with me.”

“Dogaressa, Dogamy,” he says, lifting his head only slightly. “Where?”

“We think perhaps-”

Whatever they’re about to say is silenced by the look on Sans’ face, half barely restrained rage, half hopeless defeat. The dogs silently take the lead as the four of you make your way into Waterfall. Neither you nor Sans says anything. There’s nothing to say.

You can’t help yourself from fanning the tiny spark of hope in your chest that maybe, somehow, someway, they’re wrong. It sick, it’s going to destroy you if they’re right but… You need it.

They finally come to a stop in front of the mouth to a slightly smaller cavern, both of them turning to you with cautious expressions.

“This is it, but we really do-”

“-Only have your best interests at soul when we say that-”

“-You probably don’t want to see what’s in there.”

You move around and past them without a word, hope and fear warring for control. The slow, shuffling footsteps behind you let you know that Sans is following as you press inside.

The scent of copper assaults your nostrils as you step inside. A few Echo flowers line the edges of the room, and in the center is the source of the scent. A dark puddle has spread across the muddy ground, mixing with the rivulets of water that run out of the cave. It’s huge, maybe ten feet in diameter, although the water has probably added to it. There’s no body present, just a few torn bits of clothing in the colors she’d been wearing. Lying slightly to the side of the center is a dark leather bracelet. The same one Ferrin has been wearing since she got down here.

Seeped with the dark red blood and muddy water but still clearly visible is a pile of silvery dust not far to the side. Atop the dust is a tattered red scarf identical to the one Papyrus never took off.

No one could lose the amount of blood that was puddled on the floor without dying. There was nothing down here that bled, aside from yourself, Frisk… and Ferrin.

The fear and hope die instantly, replaced by a deep, numb fog. She’s dead. There’s no body to confirm it but there’s also no denying the facts - your sweet baby sister is gone, and you’re never going to get to see her again. She’s never going to laugh again, or roll her eyes at you again, or drag you somewhere ridiculous to do ridiculous things again. No more midnight television sessions, no more cooking together, going on trips together, excitedly discussing new story ideas with her. No more hearing about her love of caramel popcorn, or excited rambling about whatever had caught her eye that day. No more… anything.

The sorrow for Papyrus’ death is there too, but vastly outweighed by the sheer crushing weight of Ferrin’s death. You’d known Papyrus for a few months. Ferrin had been there your entire life. You are sad to imagine a future without his bright, cheerful smile, but you can’t imagine one without her. You don’t think you want one without her.

Dogaressa speaks up from behind you. “We found it this morning. It’s nearly-”

“-A day old. The blood could only have come from a non-monster-”

“-And it smells just like your sister. The dust also-”

“-Carries Papyrus’ scent. No healing magic can replace that much blood loss-”

“-So even without a body… We were forced to conclude that they have both passed on.”

You breathe in. Breathe out. In again, look at Sans. He’s standing a little ways away from you, staring at the dust on the ground. Breathe out, step forward, kneel on the mud, feel your pants soak through, fingertips brushing the dark, wet, sticky earth as you pick up your baby sister’s bracelet. It slides onto your wrist with a sick sense of finality. In again, catch sight of Sans grabbing ahold of Papyrus’ scarf from the ground in much the same way, watch from the corner of his eyes as the clatter of shaking bones fills the air while he buries his face in the scarf. Out. In. You’re breathing. She isn’t. Why?

“We will…”

“...Leave you to your mourning.”

“Our condolences to both of you,” one of the dogs finishes, voice quiet and sad. You don’t bother with a response as you hear their footsteps leave the cavern.

You wonder if they’ll tell everyone back in Snowdin. You wonder if they’ll even bother to mention that Ferrin died here too, right alongside Papyrus.

Who would do something like this? Papyrus was so innocent, so kind, and Ferrin… Ferrin hadn’t had an unkind bone in her body. She’d loved everybody, she’d been so happy just living, she’d loved making other people smile.

She’d been the most important thing in your life. And without her here… What are you supposed to do?

“This wasn’t an accident,” a voice says from your right. It sounds just as broken, as hopeless as yours would if you could find words worth speaking. Who…?

‘[Your name],” they say, drawing you out of the fog. “Someone killed them. Someone killed.. Someone killed my brother. The same person who killed Ferrin.”

Why would anyone want to hurt either of them? You shake your head slowly, trying to clear the fog of clinging to your brain away. “Not… Why?”

The other person - Sans, it was Sans, he was there too - Sans says, “I don’t know. The kid was with us, and I dunno who would’ve been willing to kill P-.... my bro just to get to Ferrin.”

You finger the bracelet on your wrist, mind trying to function again. Revenge. You could focus on that. That would make life worth living until you could avenge her, avenge both of them because Papyrus didn’t deserve this either. You let the rage wash over you, burning away the last of the fog as you force yourself to stand. Now you just need a direction. “You’re right. Asgore wouldn’t have killed Papyrus, neither would Undyne or the dogs… Averia?”

Sans shakes his head, eyes still dark, scarf now secured around his neck. “Tori’s keeping an eye out for her. If she’d left Grillby’s I woulda known.”

“Chara’s out of commission…”

“D’ya think they could’ve possessed Ferrin and… ya know?”

You shake your head, anger taking a misdirected stab at Sans. “Never. My sister would never hurt anyone else. Insult her again and... “ You forcibly choke down the rest of the sentence. In, out, in, out, steady, [Your name]. “No. Wasn’t Ferrin. Would explain why Papyrus was gone but not her. Unless you think Paps would’ve fought back.”

“Sorry. No. He wouldn’t have. But that doesn’t leave us with any suspects.”

You shake your head. “No, no we’re forgetting someone. Gaster couldn’t have…?” Why does it feel like you’re ignoring a ridiculously obvious solution?

“Prob’ly not. What about-”

“Flowey,” you breathe, staring at Sans without seeing him. “Oh god, it must’ve been.”

“He’s never interfered before,” Sans points out.

“Yeah well, I never fell before, and Ferrin and Averia never did either. It makes sense. It’s gotta be Flowey.”

“We don’t know for sure.”

“We could always find that little weed and wring the answers out of him,” you suggest.

“He’s a tricky one to find. Any time I try to corner him he disappears. If it is him, what I wanna know is why he thinks he can take me now.”

As you pause to think that one over, something shifts against the cavern wall to your left, and you spin to find a vine retracting under the mud. Above it, a white something flutters in the air. You rush forward, nearly slamming into Sans as he teleports to the space it had just vacated.

Flowey’s vine is already gone, but Sans snatches the piece of paper out of the air before it can follow him into the mud. His fingers are surprisingly steady as he holds onto the note. After a few moments he shoves it your direction without a word. His teeth are gritted tightly in fury, magic reacting to his emotions and swirling around the both of you. For the first time since you’ve come underground it doesn’t scare you. You take the sheet from him, reading through the clumsy scrawl.

 

_Wowie! Sooo sorry to hear about your siblings, that must just feel awful! I mean, I can only imagine, since I don’t have a soul and all… But that won’t be a problem for much longer! Silly Asgore, keeping all of the souls together in one place. It just made them that much easier to steal! And after all, I did find this nice, green soul just hanging out here! All I had to do was get rid of the human it was attached to. And that silly skeleton of course! He just wouldn’t get out of my way, saying all those things about ‘friendship’ and how I ‘could do better’. Gosh, I sure hope that their families don’t mind!_

 

_See you at the castle, trashbags. I’ll even be in the bag of bones’ favorite room! Buh bye!_

  


There’s no signature. You don’t need one.

You let the paper fall to the floor. It doesn’t matter anymore. Your anger has a target now, and you have a mission. The fury from before is now boiling under a layer of ice. You’ve got one mission left on this earth.

“I’m going,” you announce. “Are you?”  
Sans’ anger has apparently reigned itself in as well. His tone is as hard and flinty as yours as he says, “You couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I forgot to mention this before, but there is fanart of Averia! This is very close to how I envisioned her, so please do [check it out!](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/post/141420833056/look-a-this-awesome-fanart-and-cry-so-i-wont-be) (And check Greyshi's tumblr for other amazing art!)
> 
> Yes, I know, Sans doesn't ever fight the player unless you've killed literally every available monster... But that's a video game. There are limitations to what Toby could possibly put into it, especially since to modify Papyrus' death in a no mercy run you would have to go all the way back to the beginning of the game, thus creating an entirely new game in the event that a player ran a repeat no mercy game. (Plus you'd never be able to beat the dang game if Sans got everyone to tag team you.) To be honest the idea of Sans being willing to just sit there after repeated no mercy runs has never sat well with me.
> 
> Plus I've changed the rules on him - Gaster has informed them that this is the last reset, and (unlike in a no mercy run, where Toriel is already dead by the time Sans realizes Papyrus has fallen, and Frisk appears to be the one doing the killing) Sans still has people in the underground that he cares deeply for. Plus, he definitely didn't promise not to hurt Flowey. So for various reasons, MIR's Sans is willing to fight (although much like Reader he's hoping to die after avenging his brother).
> 
> Also, I'm working on a few side stories that are loosely connected with this fanfic and its characters. If you like Averia and Gaster, you're going to love them. If not, it's not required to understand anything, so you can skip them too! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Or you know, didn't, because it's also sort of awful and I wouldn't blame you.


	45. Gone Sideways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Just a quick note, my beta reader recommends that you go back and re-read the last two chapters so that things will make a bit more sense here. You don't have to, of course, but it might help!
> 
> Beta Reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Ao3 Specific Tumblr: [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

You turn to face the cavern entrance, ready to run to the castle if you have to. You don't want Sans to waste energy teleporting you there when the River Person is so close. Your mistake comes when you turn to get one last glimpse of all that was left of your sister, and the sight brings sorrow crashing over you. She's just… gone.

“It all seems pointless, doesn't it?” 

Sans’ words are hopeless and dull, despite the anger that was there before. He sounds like he's going to give up - like he already has. 

It feels like lifting a mountain but you find the answer you know you're supposed to give, even if your soul shudders with the same sorrow that you can hear in Sans’ voice.

“No,” you say nearly soundlessly.

When Sans doesn't respond, you continue. “No. It isn't hopeless.”

“They're not comin’ back. His last chance for a happy ending and I fucked it up,” Sans says bitterly.

You're searching for some kind of hope to give him when you're interrupted.

_ Frisk says to come back to the house. _

You get the feeling that the abrupt voice in your head would have startled you before you stopped caring about anything that wasn’t killing Flowey. You get the feeling that your next sentence would have been harder to say then too. “Tell Frisk we can’t go back. Flowey’s killed our siblings and taken the human souls.”

Chara’s silent for a few moments as they and Frisk absorb this information.  _ That explains that… _

“What are you talking about?”

_ Frisk says they just tried to go back to their last save point, the one from last night, and it didn’t work. Also there’s a huuuuge fight going on outside of that bar. _

“Chara, I’m not in the mood for guessing games,” you say heavily.

_ Undyne and Averia are fighting, it’s pretty awesome. I’m hoping that they take each other out. _

Sans is looking at you dully, as though he doesn't care what happens next. He probably doesn't. 

“Chara says Frisk can't access their saves. Undyne thinks Averia killed Papyrus, they're fighting in front of Grillby’s,” you report.

Sans nods slowly, like it takes more energy than he has to do so. “S’not like it matters. The weed’ll kill ‘em all sooner or later anyways.”

You turn to him, snarling. “Of course it matters!”

“They've all died before. What's one more, huh?”

The hopelessness in his tone reminds you that he's suffering from their loss as much as you are. “Sans, I can't just let them kill each other. Fe- … neither of them would've wanted us to do that.”

Sans laughs without a drop of humor. “I spent a lotta time tryin’ to do what he woulda done back when this all started. It doesn't matter. Nothin’ we do is gonna matter. They're dead.”

Something about the dull certainty, the resignation behind his words makes you realize that arguing is pointless. Sans isn't going with you because he thinks he can fix the problem - it's because he doesn't know what else to do. It's because he can't do anything for Papyrus but try to prevent Flowey from hurting anyone else even though he believes it's pointless.

“We can always try,” you say, giving him the best smile you can, even if it comes out lopsided and bitter. His grin seems to become just a hit more genuine before he grabs your hand and there's darkness all around you.

You appear in front of Sans’ house to find the scene playing out in front of Grillby’s.  Blue spears are embedded in the snow alongside broken bones, Undyne's rough voice filling the air.

The culprits are facing off in front of the restaurant, most of the residents of Snowdin watching from a safe distance. Toriel is visibly restraining Frisk, Grillby mysteriously missing and dog sentries standing in front of the crowd Undyne looks just shy of spontaneous combustion, jabbing a spear in her opponent's direction as she hurls accusations. Averia, standing across from her warily, looks both confused and irritated.

“...CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! WHAT KIND OF GUARD WOULD KILL SOMEONE LIKE PAPYRUS?! WHAT KIND OF MONSTER WOULD EVEN BE ABLE TO DO THAT?!” Undyne roars, a wave of spears crashing down where her opponent had been standing a moment before.

Averia dodges the spears with an ease you can’t help but envy. “For the love of fuck I haven’t left the bar all morning!”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Undyne roars, blocking the bones hurled her way with a summoned shield.

Averia rolls to the side to avoid a round of spears, sending her own arc of bones towards the current Captain. Undyne catches them with her shield, then unleashes a golden spear towards her opponent. Averia blocks it and is caught in the thigh as it whips back around from out of sight. She falls to one knee as another set of blue spears fly in her direction, only to be caught by a wall of bones. Neither of them have noticed your appearance, too wrapped up in their fighting.

“Undyne, Averia, wait!” you call. “You've got this all wrong!”

Neither of the fighters acknowledge your words, Averia snarling and Undyne still shouting accusations.

You're at a loss, unsure of how to get them to listen, when Sans mutters a curse under his breath. The air around him fills with his magic, the hairs on your arms standing up as an arc of cyan bones fly towards both fighters. Whether by instinct or conscious thought both freeze as the blue bones go through them and stay there, pinning them in place.

Eye twitching, Undyne cranes her neck to look at Sans. “WHAT. THE. FUCK. ARE YOU DOING?! THAT BITCH KILLED PAPYRUS!”

And Ferrin, you add silently, pain lancing your chest. Out loud you say, “It wasn't her.”

At that moment Grillby exits his restaurant at a sprint, and in a voice that isn't a shout but is the loudest you've heard the elemental speak says, “Captain Undyne, Averia is not guilty!”

“Well then who the fuck is?!” Undyne shouts, and you can hear just the tiniest crack in the facade of anger in her voice. She was angry, yes, but hiding just underneath that was soul deep sorrow and grief.

“A monster,” Sans says grimly. “One without a soul.”

That catches her attention, and Undyne gives Sans her full focus as he continues, “He’s got somethin’ against all of us. He's not really strong, just smart and wily. Least he was. He's got the human souls now.”

Undyne and Averia flinch, both of their faces expressing horror. Averia is the first to speak. “What about Asgore? He’s supposed to guard those, is he alright?”

“Prob’ly not,” Sans says dully. “The monster killed our siblings and probably got him too.”

“I would've heard about that!” Undyne protests.

“Not of he killed everyone else in the castle,” Sans reminds her.

“He taunted us, left us a letter to make sure we know where he is,” you say grimly. “He wants a fight, but we don't have any other choice but to indulge him.” You deliberately don't mention his ability to reset - it won't matter and would probably just confuse the situation further.

“THIS IS A LOAD OF SHIT!” Undyne roars. “YOU'RE EXPECTING ME TO BELIEVE THIS? FUCK YOU!”

“Call Alphys,” you say. When Undyne’s furious gaze rounds on you, you continue calmly. “She knows what we're talking about. Tell her that the experiment from Asgore’s garden was successful.”

Undyne pauses for a few moments before growling, “Fine, I'll call Alph. Maybe she saw something on those cameras of hers. But I can't really get my phone when I'm stuck like this.”

She levels a pointed glare at Sans, who gives her a flat look before saying, “Can ya keep it civil this time?”

“Yeah, whatever. She didn't do it so as long as she doesn't do anything I'll play nice.”

Averia rolls her eye lights as the group's collective gaze falls upon her. “I didn't do anything in the first place, but sure. If temperamental bitch here can keep her spears to herself everything will be fine.”

Pot calling the kettle black, but you choose not to comment. The bones vanished from where they protruded from the ground, and Undyne grabs her phone. You wait as it rings before a quiet voice answers it.

“Hey, Alph. You been watching us?”

“Nah, but the human thinks you know something about what's going on.”

“That's what I said!” Undyne shouts.

“Tell her what I said,” you remind her, earning yourself a sneer.

“Fine, fine. Look, Alph, they said something about an experiment in Asgore’s garden being successful? What kinda bullshit is-”

Undyne breaks off, brow furrowing as she listens intently to Alphys’ words. “Wait, you can't be-”

“Are you sure?”

“But-”

“Okay. Alright.”

Undyne hands you her phone, looking conflicted. “Hello,” you say.

“It was- The experiment-” Alphys’ flustered voice says.

“Yeah. It worked. The flower came to life, but it didn't have a soul. It's basically just animated by DT now.”

“B-b-b-but, the fl-flower, did it… The dust d-d-didn’t….?”

“It did,” you say grimly. “That's who it is, but without a soul.”

Alphys lets out a horrified moan as her phone clatters to the ground. You can hear her muttering to herself in the background as she scrambles to pick it up. When she finally brings the phone back up to her mouth she has only one question. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you confirm.

Alphys curses, quiet but fervent. After a few moments of silence she says, “Give the ph-phone back to Undyne.”

You comply silently, Undyne raising a brow as you hand the device back to her. A surprisingly strong voice comes from the other end as Undyne and Alphys resume their conversation.

“Can’t believe the kid’s really dead,” Averia mutters.

“She was murdered. What, aren't you happy to hear someone else did your job?” you spit, glaring at her.

Averia’s sockets narrow in fury but she bites her tongue. You almost egg her on further, but Undyne’s words interrupt your thoughts first.

“Thanks Alph. No, stay where you are. Keep him with you, we need you and the labs to survive this. 

Undyne pauses, looking conflicted. “Wait, no don't… Alph. If anything happens… Don't give up hope, alright?”

Whatever Alphys says brings a soft, sad smile to Undyne’s face. “You nerd, ‘course I won't.”

The conversation is over shortly afterwards, Undyne ending the call to level a serious stare at the group. “Alphys says she can't access any of the cameras in and outside the castle. Mettaton’s staying with her to keep the labs safe.”

A quiet, whispering voice comes from your right. “That leaves you with only four fighters.” You turn to find Grillby with Averia not far behind. Both have unreadable expressions as he continues, “I believe assistance would be appreciated.”

“Civilians need to stay away from the fighting,” Undyne says firmly.

“Grillby was a member of Magore’s Royal Guard,” Averia says. “I was his Captain, I’ll vouch that he's more than qualified.”

You bite your tongue, knowing that they won't listen if you say that no one is really qualified for this. 

“Wait, you're…? You’re  _ that _ Averia?” Undyne asks, shocked.

Something in Averia’s face softens as she says, “Yeah, that's me. Not as dead as may have been reported.”

“Civilians we may be, but we are well versed in battle. Please, let us be of some use,” Grillby insists.

“I could handle one damn flower on my own,” Undyne says, “But sure, you can watch me beat it to a pulp.”

Dogaressa steps forward, her husband trailing in her wake. The rest of the dogs stand behind them, expressions solemn and determined.

“We all wish to-”

“Assist as well.”

A flicker of exasperation disturbs the resigned determination in your soul. You're about to open your mouth to tell the dogs that they might be better off doing something else when Undyne interrupts.

“No. I want you guys to keep guard everywhere else. There's a murderer on the loose and I want the Guard alert and ready to deal with trouble,” she commands. “Lesser, Greater, I want you two to go to New Home and mobilize everyone you can. Dogamy, Dogaressa, I want you to go to Alphys and start acting out her evacuation plan. Doggo, go to Waterfall and organize the guards there to help Dogaressa. Start blocking off all paths out of the castle, break bridges, put up barriers if you have to. Evacuate everyone you can into the safe houses. You guys have to keep everyone from panicking.”

Whether it's her tone or the determination shining in her eyes, the dogs all salute before turning and launching themselves on all fours down the path towards Waterfall.

And now for the most difficult part. You brace yourself, then turn towards Frisk with your most stern expression. “Frisk, I want you to stay here.”

They look up at you, determination clear in their expression.  No .

“It's not safe for you to come with us. You have to stay here,” you insist.

They shake their head fiercely.  I have to go! I can't just wait here while you get hurt.

“Let someone else take responsibility for once, kid,” Sans says from behind you.

Toriel steps forward, concerned. “Am I to understand that you wish to battle with us Frisk?” Frisk looks at her guiltily as you nod, causing Toriel to gasp in shock. “Absolutely not my child! You cannot be in such danger!”

But I-

“You have to stay here and be safe, Frisk,” you say.

“Yes my child, you must stay safe… Although I do not know if you should be left without a trustworthy guardian…” Toriel says thoughtfully.

“You could look after them?” you suggest, clinging to the idea of someone keeping an eye on Frisk who could keep them from doing something dumb.

I want to go! I've fought him before I know how to do this! Please, [Your name]! I know I can help , Frisk signs desperately.

“Frisk, kiddo, look-”

I can help, please! 

“I can't-”

Please! It doesn't matter if I die, we need to get through to Flowey!

You feel something inside of you snap, sorrow tearing through your soul. You fall to your knees, grabbing Frisk and wrapping them into a tight hug. “Please stop. I know you're strong Frisk, but I don't want- I can't watch you die. Please Frisk. Ferrin's already gone, and I can't stop Sans, or Undyne, or anyone else but I can't watch you die too.”

_ Frisk says they’ll just come back anyways. _

“And if you don't? If he gets bored and leaves you there?”

_ They don't think that’ll happen. _

“Please,” you beg, knowing you're being irrational, knowing Frisk would probably be an asset in this fight but needing to know someone you cared for was safe. “I'm begging you Frisk, stay here, stay safe, for me, please.  _ Please _ .”

Too many agonizing seconds later you feel Frisk nod against you. “Thank you,” you whisper, relief washing through you.

It takes a good minute, but you manage to pull yourself together by shoving your emotions back behind that barrier in your mind. You get to your feet and wipe your tears away, hoping no one noticed. As you move back Toriel comes forward to take Frisk. They're crying, sniffling as tears slide down their face. As Toriel move to grab their hand and take them away, they run forward and wrap their arms around your waist, burying their head in your torso. You hug them back, feeling them shivering against you.

They pull back after a long moment, staring up at you with watery brown eyes as they sign,  I love you, [Your name]. Please come back.

You aren't sure what that makes you feel - it certainly doesn't get rid of the crushing sorrow, nor does it do anything to put out the fire of rage in your chest. Somehow you feel stronger though, no longer about to break. “I love you too kiddo. I'll see you later, alright?”

Frisk nods and wipes their messy face on their sleeve before turning to Sans.  I love you too. Promise me you'll come back.

Sans takes a step forward and the two of them embrace. “Love ya too kid. No promises, but I'll do my best to beat that weed.”

Frisk turns to the rest of the group, signing slowly so that you have time to translate. “Frisk says that they wish us good luck. They wish that they'd had longer to become your friend, especially you Undyne. They want to know if they can give you a hug before they go for luck.”

They look hopefully at Undyne, who - after three fierce gazes leveled at her from Toriel, Sans and yourself - steps forward reluctantly. Her expression changes to one of confusion as Frisk embraces her, and she looks at them like she's trying to remember something.

Grillby looks mildly uncomfortable but needs no prompting to return the hug. When Frisk turns to Averia she looks conflicted and intensely uncomfortable but briefly returns the gesture anyways. At your surprised glance she sends you a glare before turning away.

_ You're both liars _ , Chara says as Toriel leads Frisk away.  _ You and the trashbag _ . 

“Probably. You sticking around?” you murmur under your breath.

_ Only ‘cause Frisk asked me to. _

The rest of you file off towards the River Person’s dock. They're already there when you arrive, humming idly. When Undyne orders them to take you in two groups their boat glows briefly before transforming into a much larger one. When Undyne demands to know why they'd never done so before, they just shrug.

“Tra la la~ Shall we enjoy a boat ride~?” they ask.

Grillby is markedly reluctant to get on the boat, but eventually eases himself down carefully. The boat sets off at a swift pace towards the palace as everyone sits and broods over the situation. 

“Hey, human,” Undyne barks a few minutes later.

“My name is [Your name]. What?”

Undyne scowls. “Can you use your human mind control on any monster? Or are there rules?”

“I don't have mind control powers. I don't think anyone does.”

“But some of the human history that we have says you can!” Undyne says indignantly.

“I guess it's possible, but no one I knew could,” you respond, edging around the fact that her ‘human history’ was actually animated television shows.

“So that kid can't use mind control?”

“Uh no. Why do you ask?”

Undyne grimaces. “No reason.”

She turned away from you, looking up at the River Person. “We almost there?”

“Are we ever anywhere~?” they hum.

Undyne’s eye twitches. “What the fuck does that even mean?!”

“The water is exceptionally wet today, watch your step~,” they reply just as the boat comes around a bend and the dock comes into view. Undyne mutters something about ‘useless mystery people’ as she gets off, followed shortly by Grillby, who looks as though he's just been on the most terrifying ride of his life. The rest of you are quick to follow suit.

Averia steps off of the boat last, then turns to the River Person. “Look, I don't want to owe you or anything but we could really use your help.”

“No matter your number, you cannot drain the ocean~. I would endeavor to find more fruitful endeavors.”

Averia just scowls. “You and your fucking riddles. So you're not going to do shit even when Magore’s son is in danger? Morgana swore an oath to the king! She wouldn't want you to sit there and do nothing!”

“You presume much and know little. I am bound to none by none,” they say, voice suddenly chilly.

“Fuck you,” Averia hisses. “Morgana would have been ashamed.”

The River Person doesn’t reply, silently staring her down. After what feels like hours she turns away growling and stalks past the group. The River Person stands still for a few moments longer before turning away. Their boat sails off silently through the dark water.

The five of you walk up the path to the elevators with only a few tense words, looking all around for evidence of, well, anything. There's no dust on the ground, no vines hanging from the ceiling, nothing that would give any indication of Flowey's presence. Doubt begins to worm it's way into your mind. Would Flowey have a motivation for lying to you? It wasn't exactly out of character for him to do something for his amusement alone after all.

The elevator ascends in silence. It's more than large enough for all of you to be together, which only makes it more obvious how low the general mood is. When you finally reach the corridor leading to the Hall of Judgement it's with the air of people walking to meet Death themself.

The hall is dark, not a drop of light filtering in through the stained glass. You can hear something immense moving in the darkness, feel things moving that send tremors through the ground below your feet.

“Oh look, if it isn't my favorite trashbags!” Flowey's overly cheery voice calls. “And you even brought friends!”

A figure to your right steps forward bravely, glowing teal spears illuminating Undyne’s face. “Reveal yourself! You stand accused of the murder of at least two innocents as well as overrunning the castle, you bastard! We’re going to get revenge for them, you hear me!?!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Flowey tuts. “You wouldn't want to make me angry now would you?”

“I don't give a flying fuck if you're angry!” Undyne roars.

“Awh, didja hear that? She doesn't care! Isn't that sooo sad?” Flowey asks.

“Come on Flowey, this is ridiculous,” you say.

“Fight us, gods damn you!” Undyne shouts, spears at the ready.

“Oh no, I won't do that. I have a much better game planned for you! You just can't see it yet,” Flowey giggles.

Undyne roars and launches her spears. They fly through the darkness and hit a single, almost unimaginably huge vine. Flowey continues as though nothing had happened.

“Ooh, ooh! I've got it, the smiley trashbag will love this one - how about we… shed some light on the situation?” Flowey asks, cackling.

Before you can respond the vines furthest from you begin shifting, pulling back from the windows they were covering. Omega Flowey's body was slowly illuminated as the vines withdrew, an Eldritch abomination of parts that were never meant to be put together, the light in the hall increasing until you could finally understand why he was so assured of victory.

Not twenty feet from where you are standing Flowey has two very familiar figures bound and gagged by his vines. Your sister is withdrawn and pale, dried blood coating both arms. She’s looking at you in fear and sorrow, tears trailing down her cheeks. Papyrus has obviously been wounded as well - you can see several cracks along his skull and arms that hadn't been there last you'd seen him. He too looks scared, although he's not crying like Ferrin. 

  
You feel everything shudder to a halt as your eyes find your sister's. You'd already accepted that she was dead, gone for good, but here she is in front of you. Not safe, not unharmed, but blessedly, impossibly  _ alive _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I need to address a couple of things, including but not limited to a quick explanation as to why and how Papyrus and Ferrin are alive (forgive me if things are misspelled, I'm a bit pressed for time) :
> 
> No, it's not a 'Oh my god I killed these characters and now I need a way to get out of that' kind of deal. There are a few things at play, one being that Flowey would never pass up the ability to play with more chess pieces. Killing Papyrus and/or Ferrin before his save point wouldn't make a lot of sense from that perspective. Two, and only one person pointed this out (internet cookies for you, Dobie Lover), but if Papyrus had died, there would have been two piles of dust, since Flowey killed another monster to demonstrate that he could. Three (and no one called Reader out on this) they said that the only ones capable of bleeding were themselves, Frisk, and Ferrin, and they should have known that they were wrong. At the very least the game shows us that there are birds and mice, and it's logical to assume that other animals fell down as well. Now, four is the one that some of you might disagree with me on. I believe (and the story is going off of the assumption that) in-game, the dog monsters don't actually have the best sense of smell. The best example is when you fight against Dogaressa and Dogamy. All you have to do to get them to spare you is have Frisk roll around in the dirt. When they smell you again afterwards, not only is it obvious that they can't tell the difference between a dirty puppy and a dirty human, but that they themselves don't have much faith in their sense of smell, since they question their original decision that the smell was from a human. My best guess as to why this would be true is that they're monsters who look like dogs, not dogs. Feel free to disagree, but in the context of this story they used context clues (the bracelet and the blood, the dust and the scarf) to come to the most obvious conclusion. 
> 
> Also to answer this before someone asks; yes, Reader is being incredibly foolish. As some of you have noted before, they have a bit of a martyr complex. It's the idea that they have to sacrifice themselves so that others may live as well as the idea that morals (such as 'children should be kept safe') aren't sometimes secondary to practicality. It's a common problem in heroes, and yet most of the time none of them suffer the consequences. Unfortunately for Reader I'm a big fan of the phrase 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions'.
> 
> I am sincerely very sorry for the delay. Things have been almost constantly changing since we moved out of our home of 17 years, and unfortunately few of those changes went as planned. While things are still alright (my family and I do have somewhere to live, after all) they also aren't as good as they could be, nor as they were planned to be. For now updates will be a little strange, and possibly very delayed, and there isn't much I can do about that but apologize and hope you all can forgive me. My only promises are that this story will not ever be abandoned, and that I won't skimp on quality to end it faster. This may mean longer waits in between chapters but again I can only offer my apologies and the assurance that I am trying my best to give you guys the content you deserve. Thank you to every one of you for continuing to read this despite delays!


	46. Sacrificed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes to you via obscene amounts of caffeine, and a really sweet comment that reminded me some of you all think I'm a great writer for some strange reason! (Seriously though, you guys say the nicest things, I don't even know how to thank you all!)
> 
> Beta reader: [nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Ao3/Undertale Tumblr: [fae-ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

You’re frozen, ice replacing the blood in your veins. Your thoughts have slowed to a crawl not helped by the cackling filling the room. Flowey knows he's got the ultimate trump card in his filthy paws, and you can't muster the presence of thought to find the ace that you need.

 

“[YOUR NAME]!”

 

You jolt back into the present at Ferrin’s shout, unable to respond before she continues.

 

“Get the fuck out of here you idiots! He's fucking bat shit, he's going to-” Ferrin's voice breaks off in a shriek of pain as Flowey’s grip tightens around her waist.

 

A hand pulls you back before you can run to her, and you turn, snarling, to find Averia holding you back. “Stop and think. Running in there will just get you killed.”

 

“That's my sister! I can't just leave her with - with that thing!”

 

“Great, then by all means please go ahead and die,” she snaps. 

 

“Don't.” The words of caution come from Sans this time, and you turn to see him looking as strained as you feel.

 

You swear under your breath, studying the situation. It’s difficult to think clearly while knowing that your sister has been at Flowey’s mercy for so long, but you shove that aside in favor of getting her free.

 

“Anyone got any ideas for distracting him?” you ask. Flowey seems to be holding back, and you can’t help but think he must be planning something. You certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

 

“Well… he is a plant,” Grillby says thoughtfully. “And I am made of fire.”

 

“D’ya really think that’ll work?” Sans asks.

 

Grillby considers the monstrosity before him carefully before drawing several small bottles out of his pocket. “With these, yes.”

 

“Wildfire? You sure about that?” Averia asks. 

 

Grillby waves off her concern. “If there is any time to use this, it is now.”

 

“What do you need us to do?” Undyne asks.

 

“Distract him, if you can,” Grillby says, studying the bottles carefully before storing all but two.

 

“And if he hurts Papyrus?” she demands.

 

“Then we can still protect the rest of the underground. What’s more important, his life or theirs?” Averia demands, irritated.

 

Whatever Undyne’s about to say is drowned out by Flowey, who is apparently done with waiting. A swarm of strange, x shaped bullets spew across the hall, crashing into everything indiscriminately. Your group breaks apart, Sans grabbing your arm and teleporting you to the relative safety of a pillar, the other three ducking and weaving through the barrage. Undyne reaches him first, closely followed by Averia. Grillby ducks behind a nearby pillar and despite the distance you can see him downing the contents of the bottles.

 

Averia and Undyne are doing pretty well on their own. They’re working remarkably well together, the attacks of one distracting Flowey to let the other’s bullets get further into the thicket of vines. You can’t tell if it’s doing real damage, but then again you’re not sure if you can do damage to Flowey. In the game he could just reset his health points after all.

 

A few seconds later, Averia grabs Undyne by the arm and pulls her away as Grillby darts out from behind the pillar he was hiding behind. If you didn’t know it was him, you wouldn’t have guessed that it was the same calm, orderly bartender from the bar. His form is looser and a good deal taller, flaming body almost too bright to look at. As the two women retreat he charges forward not bothering to dodge the vine that comes crashing down in front of him. He leaps on top and keeps running as fire races along behind him. Fireballs separate from him body and fly at Flowey faster than the immense plant monster can dodge them. Almost before you can blink more than half of his body is consumed by flame, Flowey howling in pain as Grillby leaps off of him, retreating to where Undyne and Averia are standing.

 

Flowey shrieks, earsplitting screams of pain that from any other being would have sparked pity in your soul. You shove the thought aside as Ferrin and Papyrus are dropped, blue magic catching them just before they hit the ground. Sans’ magic brings them behind the line that the rest of you have created as you watch the immense plant burn. With all of the water that must be in Flowey’s body it’s difficult to imagine the energy it must take to set him on fire like this, unless fire magic works differently from regular fire. Either way Flowey appears to be in great pain, shouting his pain and- Wait.

 

“Oh no!” Flowey wails, his thrashing body smashing through several pillars and shattering the tiled floor. “I’m dying! Oh, the pain, oh, the agony!”

 

You curse under your breath. “Guys, we need to-”

 

Everything shudders, the world falling apart and coming back together in a disorienting moment. Once again you’re standing in front of Flowey, Ferrin and Papyrus in his grasp.

 

Flowey’s laughter pierces your ears. “Idiots!”

 

“What. The. Fuck?!” Undyne shouts, shaking her head like she’s trying to get rid of a particularly annoying bug.

 

“Did everyone else…?” Grillby asks uncertainly.

 

“You set fire to the plant bastard over there, we got the kids back, and now we’re back here. Right?” Averia barks out the question.

 

“Yeah! What the hell just happened?!” Undyne asks before pointing at Sans and you. “And why aren’t you two as confused as we are!?”

 

_ Shit _ , Chara curses fervently. You silently agree.

 

“What, you didn’t even tell them?” Flowey asks mockingly.

 

“What is he talking about?” Averia asks flatly, looking at you distrustfully.

 

“You see,” Flowey begins, tone condescending, like he’s speaking to a child, “When one monster decides to experiment on another’s dust, you sometimes get horrendous atrocities against nature! And sometimes these atrocities have the ability to mess with time!”

 

“What the hell is he talking about?” Undyne demands.

 

“Look, there’s no reason to focus on that now-” you begin.

 

“So you do know,” Averia says. Both of the warrior women look ready to fight, and somehow you don’t think the first person they’ll go for is Flowey.

 

“Yeah, we knew ‘bout it. We didn’t tell ya ‘cause it doesn’t make a difference,” Sans says flatly.

 

“Of course it’s important! He just undid everything! What if he does it again?!” Undyne roars.

 

“If he does, we can’t stop him,” you admit.

 

“Then how the hell do we-?!”

 

“We don’t know,” Sans says.

 

“Are you telling me there’s no way to win?” Averia asks.

 

“No,” you insist. “There’s got to be a-”

 

You hear the whistle of something approaching faster than you can respond to it, but luckily your shield magic is faster than your body. The missiles crash into your party, their impact mostly absorbed by your magic. Your knees fail you a moment later, sending you the floor with a sharp cry. Your vision fails for a second as you struggle not to blackout.

 

“Wh-” This time Undyne cuts herself off, shaking her head to clear it before turning to face Flowey.

 

Averia and Grillby step around you to face Flowey.

 

“I do not understand why this was information Sans and the human saw fit to withhold,” Grillby says quietly. “But I believe we have bigger concerns.”

 

“You’re explaining what the fuck is going on,” Undyne growls. “Whatever the fuck the human just did, and about this plant bastard. But for now, we’ve got a mission. What’s important to know about that thing for the fight?”

 

“The reloads - what he did after we lit him on fire - are infinite. He can do something else that takes him further back, but other than that you know everything we do,” Sans clarifies.

 

Crap, you’re getting cold despite the warmth of the lava underneath the castle seeping up through the floors. Unable to stand and not confident that you’d be of much help even if you did, you can only watch as the other four advance. Once they’re within range, Undyne charges forward, Averia not far behind. They hack and slash at the vines that attempt to capture them, and it looks like they’re doing some real damage. Despite his words before, Flowey is putting a lot of effort into keeping Grillby farther away. Maybe you do stand a chance!

 

Little popping noises come from the white bullets that suddenly appear around you. Your soul pops into existence at the same time, soft golden light signaling trouble. With a curse you launch yourself out of the way on all fours, staggering to your feet in time to take two directly to your soul but managing to dodge the rest. Two howls of anger, another two of shock and a loud swear alert you to trouble on that front as another ring closes in. This one you manage to dodge perfectly. Another perfect dodge later you can spare a glance towards the others. Sans is teleporting out of the way of more of the seed shaped bullets, Averia and Undyne making headway through the vines. Ferrin and Papyrus are still restrained, although you’re pretty sure some of the bone attacks are coming from the wrong direction to be Sans’. That leaves Grillby, who is nowhere in sight.

 

You curse under your breath, then again louder as a bullet manages to nick you from just out of sight. As you duck under another barrage, you feel fear prickling along your spine. That’s one down, with only four to go…

 

The circles of bullets doesn’t let up as you continue to dodge, feet heavy and uncooperative, resulting in another three direct hits. Once again, you’re too busy dodging to see your comrade die, but you can certainly hear it. Flowey cackles happily, while Ferrin and Papyrus wail. A moment later, their voices cut off abruptly.

 

When you next get a chance to look up, the only two still fighting are Undyne and Averia. Dust sparkles in the air, and if you look you can just barely catch a glimpse of a blue coat and several blood stained vines.

 

You freeze, shock, disbelief and sorrow warring for control. Pain overrides them all as a bullet strikes your soul head on, dropping you to a measly two health points. At almost the same time Flowey sweeps across the floor with several consecutive vines, knocking both of the remaining warriors against the wall behind them.

 

The two women wear identical expressions as they rise to their feet. Undyne’s armor took some of the damage, but the near glacial way she rises to her feet makes it clear she's more injured than she's letting on. Averia’s tail is half gone, and the rest of her looks soon to follow. Despite the trickle of dust falling from her bones she advances alongside Undyne.

 

“Oh come on,” Flowey groans. “This is just getting pathetic! Give up already, you can't beat me! Why keep fighting if you know you won't win?”

 

“For King Magore-”

 

“For King Asgore-”

 

“- and all of monsterkind!” they shout together, charging forward once more.

 

Unfortunately, the vast difference in power can't be bridged with skill and determination alone. Even as they start to split to either side Flowey's ready. Undyne is thrown to one side and then blocked by walls of vines as Averia is captured, unable to dodge the vines closing in around her.

 

“If you join me, I'll let you live,” Flowey offers, staring down at the trapped monster. Undyne roars her anger, hacking and slashing at the vines separating her from Flowey. Your panic rises as you realize that she won't reach the skeleton monster in time.

 

“Fuck you,” Averia snarls defiantly.

 

The vines creep up her shins as she stares coldly back at the horror before her. She does not flinch as they tangle themselves in the gaps between her radius and ulna, creeping into her chest cavity and twining around her spine, locking her in place. One grasps the sword in her hand and flings it aside. Once she is trapped the vines flex, pulling on the bones as though testing to see how much they will give before her body will break apart.

 

“Your defiance means less than nothing,” Flowey purrs. “I'll just bring you back again-” with a crack and a muffled sound of pain her femur breaks “- and again -” her right hand is crushed to dust and still she refuses to give voice to her pain “- and again -” something deep in her ribcage splinters apart “- until I get tired of you. And then, I'll reset! Only this time, we'll be the best of friends! I'll learn every single one of your secrets, and then I'll use them to tear you apart. How's that sound, friend?”

 

Averia glares up at him, defiant and strong. A stir of admiration and sorrow rises in your chest.

 

“You're a sadistic bastard,” she grinds out through clenched teeth. “May your dust be scattered over dung.”

 

Flowey giggles. “Oh boy, that would be fun! I'll make sure your dust ends up in a toilet. Buh bye now!”

 

Even more vines cover the skeleton’s slight frame. A loud crunch filters through the sounds of moving plants, Flowey’s spiteful giggling, and Undyne’s infuriated screams. You feel nausea rising in your stomach at the sound. The vines fall away, allowing the borrowed clothing to fall to the floor alongside a pile of silvery dust. For the briefest of seconds a dull grey and violet monster soul hovers in midair before it shatters with a sound akin to the breaking of glass.

 

Undyne finally gets through the blockade in time to be swept into another wall by a vine she couldn’t have seen coming.

 

“Just give up,” Flowey croons. “You’re about to die, you know that, right?”

 

“My body… feels like it’s splitting apart… but I can't die!” Undyne shouts, staggering as she points a condemning spear at Flowey. “If I fall here… you’ll kill these innocents. You'll kill Papyrus, and his brother, and the humans. But you won't stop there, will you?”

 

She shakes her head. “No, that won't satisfy you. You won't stop until you've killed all of monsterkind, and I know your revenge won't stop there. You're going to kill all of the humans too, aren't you?”

 

Flowey releases another bout of mad laughter as Undyne wheezes, leaning heavily on her spear. “Awh, how cute! You've figured out my plan! Yes you useless fish, I'm going to kill everyone. Starting with the idiots you called friends, and then moving onto the rest of the planet! And you. Can't. Stop. Me!”

 

“Maybe not,” Undyne concedes, “But deep, deep down in my soul… There's this burning feeling I can't describe.”

 

You feel tears seeping out of the corners of your eyes as you realize what's about to happen. 

 

Undyne, brave despite her fear and dead set - no,  **determined** to save everyone that’s left from this threat, lifts her head. Her expression is solemn. “You. You want to destroy everything. Everyone's hopes. Everyone's dreams. But I won't let you do that. I can feel it. Right now, right here, everyone's hearts are beating as one. Human. Monster. And we all have one goal. Defeating you.”

 

Undyne pauses, baring her teeth in a fierce grin. When she speaks again, her words are slow, resonating with power. “For the sake of the entire world... I, Undyne, will vanquish you!”

 

Her cry echoes throughout the Judgement Hall as a blinding light pulses from her body. You cover your eyes but still find yourself blinking spots out of your sight when the flare ceases. 

 

Standing before you is Undyne the Undying in all of her glory. She's actually gained at least a foot of height, her armor dark black and spiked, left eye flashing with bright white light. Wind howls through the Judgement Hall where none existed before as she points a condemning finger at the monstrosity before her.

 

“You're gonna have to try a little harder than that!” 

 

Flowey howls with laughter as Undyne summons an immense cloud of spears. They crash into the vines, shearing through more than half of them, crashing into the screen serving as his face and leaving it black. For the first time since you’d entered the hall the sound of shifting plant matter is gone, all of the vines either fallen onto the floor or hanging limply from the walls and ceiling. The screen gives off small sparks of electricity every few seconds, the gaps between them growing further apart until it lays there silently. As you watch in trepidation another heavy vine crashes onto the floor and lays there, lifeless.

 

Undyne watches Flowey’s unmoving form warily. “Why isn’t it turning to dust?”

 

“I think he might be too physical for that,” you answer cautiously, taking a few steps forward.

 

Undyne nudges a vine with her foot, watching for a response. She’s accumulated a few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise looks okay. The dust now coating your shoes reminds you that not everyone got away without injury. Your mind is too overwhelmed to really process anything anyways. The last few minutes have been, in every sense of the word, mind blowing.

 

As Undyne moves closer to the immense body, you take a few steps back and whisper under your breath, “Chara? What’s Frisk say?”

 

_ Frisk can’t save _ , Chara says quietly.

 

You ‘re not sure whether you should curse or cheer. As you open your mouth to warn Undyne, you see the world around you shift and fall apart. For just moment you catch a glimpse of the dark space where you've met Gaster before you're back in the Judgement Hall.

 

Flowey cackles as spinning white bullets surround everyone, the circle tightening as you all dodge out from underneath, then duck to the side to avoid the rings as they form around you again. “Did you idiots really think it was going to be that easy?”

 

There’s no time to talk, no time to reconnect with the people who died last time. You’re immediately on the defensive again, ducking and leaping over whatever Flowey sees fit to throw at you. Undyne has difficulty focusing this time, and she’s one of the first to go. You waste precious time and energy trying to protect her, dying not long after to a fleet of flies.

 

When you shudder back into existence with the next reset, Sans tells you to stop trying to guard everyone else. It goes against every instinct you have, but you withdraw your protection from everyone.

 

“If I’m not on defense then give me something to fight with,” you say.

 

“Look, I dunno-”

 

“Sans.”

 

Without another word, he summons a sharpened bone attack and hands it to you.

 

This time, you die with your weapon sunk into Flowey’s flesh and a curse on your lips.

  
  


A few deaths later - you wonder just how many people have been able to say that in their lives - you’re nearly sick with worry about the amount of damage this must be doing to the timeline. Not that you weren’t concerned before, but not enough to beg Flowey. Now though… Gaster said you only had twenty three reloads left. Flowey doesn’t know that, and you aren’t sure if he’ll stop once he does… but you have to try.

 

“Flowey, wait!” you shout. He lazily turns his face to look at you while the barrage of magical bullets and vines continue their attack.

 

“Yeees?” he drawls, television face raising a single eyebrow.

 

“Look, you've got to stop using your time traveling powers.”

 

Flowey's laughter is deafening, ringing throughout the hall. “What? Why would I do that?”

 

“Gaster, he said that the timeline is deteriorating. Please, if you don't stop we’ll all end up dead, that isn't what you want, right?” you ask, hoping against all hope that he’ll listen. “We only had thirty seven save jumps, and we only have a few of those left. You have to stop!”

 

Flowey pauses, seeming to consider your words. Maybe knowing that there were lasting consequences to his actions would make him choose the right path?

 

When Flowey shrugs and another set of ringed bullets beings to surround you, you know you were too optimistic.

 

“I don't ‘have to do’ anything,” he sneers. “And if you think you can trick me with dead scientists and stupid lies, you're an idiot!”

 

Nothing you say convinces him, and the fight ends with another group bashing.

  
  


 

Ten resets later - you think it's ten, it could be more because you lost count when Flowey broke your leg and left you on the floor until you were the last one left - and still there is no change. 

 

The souls aren’t reacting to you like they did in the game, and what kind of fool relies on a game when there’s so much on the line? You’re internally berating yourself when Chara speaks up.

 

_ No, they did do that. Frisk thinks it might be because Flowey’s learning from his previous mistake. Before he couldn’t because he didn’t remember the timelines. _

 

“What the hell am I supposed to do about that!” you shout, ducking under… you’re not sure what, some kind of gross looking pink and green thing before jumping over another.

 

_ We don’t know! _

 

“Then- Shit!” you shout, barely avoiding a set of lasers. You keep sprinting, zig-zagging through the hall to try to avoid them, stopping only when you’re successfully hidden behind a pillar. “Do you have any other suggestions?!”

 

_ Heal yourself with food! _

 

“We don’t have any!”

 

_ Send your gross boyfriend to get some! _

 

“We don’t have time to eat it either!”

 

“Who the fuck are you talking to?!” Undyne roars, ducking behind the pillar to avoid a vine that has the top of it crumbling down. Part of the ceiling comes with it, just barely missing the two of you as you flee across the room. You bound over a vine that would have sent you sprawling before taking cover once more.

 

_ Well then since you’re such a fucking genius you figure it out! _

 

“Cha- Kid, for the love of- We need help!” you hiss, trying to keep your voice down.

 

“Are you talking to Frisk?” Undyne asks, ducking back behind the pillar as another barrage of flies ram into it.

 

You nod as Chara says,  _ Then you shouldn’t have made Frisk stay here! They’re the one who knows how to fight him! _

 

“Wh- You know why you can’t be here!”

 

_ They’re going to die anyways when Flowey breaks time or whatever! _

 

“Human! Watch o-” Undyne’s voice is cut off as you’re crushed underneath the falling debris, dying almost instantly.

 

Back in the black void, you say, “Chara, make sure that Frisk stays there. We don’t need anyone else here. Just have them relay instructions.”

 

Chara pauses.  _ I… They don’t actually have any suggestions _ , they admit sheepishly.

 

“Then why insist on them coming?!”

 

_ I wasn’t! You just need to figure this out before they end up dead for good! _

 

“What the hell do you think I’m trying to do?!”

 

_ Oh, I don’t know, fuck everything up? _

 

You’re practically snarling, fingers curled into fists. “Fuck off! Like you’re doing anything!”

 

_ I’d be doing more than you if I had a body! _

 

“What the hell could you do that we aren’t?!”

 

_ Fine! Then I won’t help you! _

 

“Good!” you shout.

 

They don’t respond, and, oddly enough, Gaster doesn’t show up to criticize your childish behavior. Even when the world resets, putting you right back in front of Flowey, Chara remains silent.

  
  


You’re starting to wonder if maybe the exertion carries over between reloads because you’re exhausted. Your dodging is growing sluggish, your feet markedly more reluctant to move. Everyone else seems to be having the same problem, and despite your anger of only a moment ago you really wish Chara would come back to help.

 

This time you’re the first one to die, and you find yourself in that strange in-between again. Desperate, you call, “Gaster! We need your help, please, he’s going to tear the timelines apart! We don’t stand a chance!”

 

Only dull silence meets your ears. Confused, you spin around, searching for any sign of a misshapen white skull, and find nothing. You call his name again and still there is no response.

 

Knowing you’re running short on time - there’s no one with you in this space, but there never is and somehow you doubt anyone can survive for that long against the monstrosity in that hallway - you shout, “He’s going to kill everyone! That includes Sans and Papyrus, you know that, right?”

 

Nothing.

 

“Gaster for fucks sake what do you want me to do, beg?”

 

The void doesn’t have an answer.

 

“We’re all going to die permanently, come on, you warned me about this! You’re the one who said we had to be careful, that otherwise everything was going to be destroyed!”

 

You cut off the rest of the words on your lips, turning like you think the melting skeleton will be behind you. You never thought you’d be eager to hear that dry, irritated tone, but still there is no sound. 

 

“You stepped in before! God fucking damn it Gaster, what’s going on!” 

 

“Gaster, please! We don’t have any other options, we need your help! Please!”

 

“I’m just an author I don’t- What are you expecting from me?!”

 

Your fear is rapidly becoming anger. “Okay, fuck you! I don’t know why you’d help before and ignore us now-” Your words catch in your throat, rage pouring through you. Anyone who could see all of the possible outcomes of a decision couldn’t possibly make a mistake like this. “ _ You planned this. _ ”

 

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “You- you planned this! Everything that’s happened, it’s all part of some goddamn plan! We’re not toys you ass, we- They don’t deserve this!”

 

He’s nowhere to be seen but you know he must be listening. You can feel yourself returning to the hell that is that hallway. “Fine. Play that game, use us like you’re playing some kind of sick chess game - but when the timelines fall apart and everyone everywhere dies, it’s on nobody but you.”

 

You think you catch a glimpse of white against the darkness, but that could just be the time jump. “Fuck you, Gaster.”

  
  
  


 

You’ve officially stopped trying to count how many times you’ve died, but you can’t help thinking it’s definitely been more than twenty three. It shouldn’t be possible though… according to Gaster. With your mind stuck in a constant cycle of dodging and swinging your borrowed weapon, you can’t even muster up the extra energy to be as angry as you probably should be.

  
  
  


 

Thrust back in time again, standing in the cold golden light. You can't believe you ever thought this place was beautiful. You don’t even really notice when everyone else dies, even when something in your non-dominant hand snaps and you’re left hacking at anything in front of you with only one hand. Death is almost a welcome break.

  
  
  


 

You’re not sure when Grillby’s flames stop affecting Flowey. You’re not sure when it was that Undyne’s spear going through the screen failed to stop him from continuing the fight. You aren’t sure if Averia cutting through his vines, Sans blasting holes through his body, and your own pathetic attempts at harming him have always been this ineffective, or if maybe you’ve been playing right into his plans this whole time. 

 

What you are sure of is that you’ve stopped bothering to change your patterns unless Flowey does it for you. That should probably bother you more than it does.

  
  
  


 

Everything’s started to blur together so badly that when Flowey breaks the pattern himself you’re almost too surprised to move. The vine around your waist has already tightened to the point of no escape by the time your brain kicks itself into motion.

 

“Well, would you look at this!” Flowey says cheerfully. “A captive audience!”

 

When nobody responds, he mock frowns. “Awh, come on. I thought it was pretty funny. What about you, short and annoying? Got any jokes?” he asks, shaking Sans.

 

Sans grits his teeth and glares at Flowey, who chuckles. “Oooh, wrong answer! Now we have to have a punishment round! Hmmm… I know! Pick someone or I dust your moron of a brother.”

 

“Myself,” Sans answers instantly.

 

“Nah! That’s too boring. You’ve got ten seconds to pick somebody else! And no getting help from your friends, you’ve gotta answer the question all on your own!” Flowey says.

 

Sans freezes, expression desperate as Flowey counts down. A few beads of sweat slide down his skull - he looks like he’s going to be sick. Just as Flowey reaches three, his gaze finally catches yours. You give the slightest of nods, expression pleading but firm.

 

Sans must catch your intent, because his eye sockets go wide in horror. Not daring to do anything else, you hold his gaze as firmly as you can.  He looks away as though he can’t meet your eyes.

 

Flowey grins wider, the cat that caught the canary as he shakes Sans slightly. “Hey, waste of space, you awake? ‘Cause I’m about to crush your precious-”

 

“Averia,” Sans croaks out.

 

“Good,” Flowey croons. The vines are shuffled so that Averia is directly in front of Sans. From her look of… not satisfaction, but something close to it, mixed with a great deal of resignation, you realize that you weren’t the only one who’d silently asked to be the sacrifice. Flowey fixed Sans’ head in place so that he was staring right at her as the vines slowly tightened around her ribcage. Despite her best efforts, small sounds of pain escape her as she’s slowly crushed to death. Before long her ribcage caves in and she crumbles away into dust.

 

“Wowie, that was boring! So, who’s up next?” Flowey asks cheerfully. Sans makes a choked noise of horror that has the giant plant howling in laughter.

 

Flowey begins the countdown, obviously enjoying himself. Just as he reaches zero again, Sans says in an almost inaudible voice, “Undyne.”

 

You feel hatred boiling in your gut as Undyne is killed the same way Averia was, their dust mixing together on the floor below. It’s not that Sans believes that Flowey won’t just end up killing Papyrus anyways - it’s that if you fail to keep him entertained he might kill all of you and leave it at that. By going along with his game Sans is trying to buy time for a plan that could save you all -  _ and you don’t think that there is one _ .

 

As your mind goes into overdrive, hopelessness warring with desperation and the need to protect, the count hits zero and Grillby takes his place on the executioner’s block. His dust joins the other two as Flowey gleefully begins counting again.

 

This time Sans won’t meet your eyes, won’t even look in your direction. You can’t speak, don’t want to turn Flowey’s attention to you, don’t want to have to make the choice that you’re forcing Sans to make as your gaze bores holes in his skull.

 

This time Flowey has only reached three before Sans says your name with the heavy tone of a man who has given up. This time it’s your turn to meet his gaze before you die. You try to convey your gratitude and love to him with only your eyes, but it does nothing to diminish the pain in his. Your death is painfully slow - Flowey very carefully tightens his grip, cheerfully talking the entire time about how much more fun it is to kill humans than monsters. You’re nowhere near as good as the other three -  Sans, Ferrin and Papyrus are only spared your screams because you have no air to give voice to them.

 

Back in that strange space in between, you stay silent. Yelling at Gaster was obviously pointless. He probably liked it even. You refuse to give him the satisfaction, the sadistic bastard.

 

When the world resets again, you don’t ask who died after you - you already know. It’s only fair. You probably would have done the same.

 

That you also don’t say a word to Sans beyond a brief squeeze to his shoulder is in no way related.

  
  
  


 

Some time later - far too long and too many time jumps for you to be bothered to remember- Flowey begins the fight without any of his usual taunts. He’s learned your patterns as well as you’ve learned his - the only difference is that one of you has unlimited HP. He can slowly whittle down everyone else’s HP while restoring his own as often as necessary. Undyne roars in anger as a well placed flurry of spears knocks him down to one HP only to have him refill it with a yawn. She loses her composure just long enough for Flowey to pin her down and smash through her armor. Instead of pain she just roars in anger as she crumbles away into dust. In short order, Averia staggers in exhaustion and is caught by a stray vine, Grillby is shoved through a wall and doesn’t return, and Sans is killed trying to protect his brother from an explosion that instead ends up taking both of their lives. Ferrin is the last to go, and you wish Flowey wouldn’t drag out her pain just to get to you. As her body falls to the floor, her green and gold soul hovers where she fell, beautiful as ever. Flowey doesn’t give you any time to really think about her, instead wrapping you up in a vine and bringing you up to the screen now serving as his face.

 

On your own, without anyone else to be brave for, the fear takes over. You’ve long since realized that Flowey can keep you down here for as long as he pleases - there’s literally no limit. You won’t age, you won’t be left dead, and there’s no way to stop him. Instead of struggling, you fall limp.

 

“Awh, you look scared,” Flowey croons mockingly.

 

Your breathing hitches, and you forcibly crush down the terror in your soul and breathe in. You try to pull yourself together as Flowey continues.

 

“Not that I blame you, I’m basically a god now. But you know what I can’t do with a measly six human souls?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for your answer before continuing with, “That’s right! Breaking the barrier takes seven souls! But you already knew that, didn’t you?

 

“Now you’re probably wondering, ‘But if the all powerful Flowey can’t break the barrier, then why doesn’t he just take my pathetic soul?’ Easy. These souls have been dead for forever! 

 

“Oh, but you don’t know what that means, do you? Well, your pal Flowey’s got your back! That idiot king killed these kids ages ago, their souls are weak. But to get a freshly dead human’s soul, you either need to be super powerful or have them swear to give it to you. Well, that’s the super simple version but you’re so stupid you wouldn’t get it if I did explain it right.

 

“Now don’t get me wrong, I could _ definitely _ force your soul into submission. But where’s the fun in that? You’d be doing dumb things like trying to fight me, and then I’d have to make you obey me and let me tell you, that gets really boring after a while.”

 

A vine you hadn’t noticed moving - and how could you, they were all moving, this Eldritch abomination  _ never  _ **_stopped_ ** _ moving  _ \- rises up between the screen and your face. Wrapped up in it was Ferrin’s glowing green soul. You felt a jolt of fear blaze through you, because no, no, no, you couldn’t fail her again-

 

Flowey must see the look on your face, because he cackles and shakes his head condescendingly. “Wow, you really weren’t listening, were you? I already said I didn’t want an unwilling soul.”

 

“Let go of her.” You find yourself whispering without meaning to, all volume absorbed by the terror clawing its way through your chest.

 

“Since we’re such good friends-” Flowey squeezes you, all air leaving your lungs before he loosens his grip again “-I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that! Aren’t I nice? Now, as I was saying, I don’t want this stupid soul. Your sister’s too much like the trashbag’s brother - all that kindness. Ugh. You, on the other hand… You’re selfish just like me!”

 

“I am nothing like you,” you spit.

 

Flowey cackles. “You know I can see your soul, right? They’re different kinds of selfish, sure, but you might even be more selfish than I am. How many people would you let die for the ones you love to live, hmm?”

 

You… wish you could say none. You wish you could put the lives of the many over the lives of the people you care about but….

 

He must be able to see your answer in your face, because Flowey laughs again. “See? Selfish. You and the trashbag have that in common. But only you’ve got what I want.”

 

“I’m not giving you my soul.” You wish you could inject a bit more determination into that sentence.

 

Flowey continues as though you hadn’t spoken. “You see, I don’t really need to kill him. I don’t even really care. He and his brother are just old, tired toys I’ve played with too many times. Your sister bores me, and Frisk isn’t a good toy either. I’ve seen everything, done everything, and quite frankly I’m bored of being down here.

 

“Do you see what I’m saying?” Flowey asks. “I don’t care what happens down here - I want to go up above.”

 

“And you need another human soul.”

 

“Oh, good, you’re not a complete moron! With your soul I can do whatever I want up there - after all, I’ll be a god!”

 

“So why not use the monster’s souls?” The question slips off of your tongue before you really think about it. 

 

“Oh please, this is so much more fun!” Flowey cackles. For just a second you feel a flash of sorrow that isn’t your own, softer, genuine laughter echoing from a memory long past.

 

You don’t know anything about what Flowey’s asking you to do. All you do know is what the monsters have told you - intent is everything with souls. If you give your soul to him willingly… you don’t even like to think about the result.

 

“Never,” you snarl, defiant. You’re almost proud of yourself even as Flowey shrugs it off.

 

“You’ll see things my way soon enough,” he says, crushing you. Your ribcage shatters, shards of bone piercing your lungs. You can’t even scream as they fill with blood.

 

The world resets around you, and Flowey says nothing about his offer. One by one he whittles down your comrades until you and Grillby are the only two left. The barrage of attacks cease immediately as Grillby is grabbed around the waist and hoisted into the air. Flowey looks at you pointedly as his bombs eradicate the elemental.

 

“That was your fault,” he says as the world shimmers into another reset.

 

He repeats the process, this time leaving only Undyne alive. A swarm of flies surrounds her and her howls of rage are quickly cut off. As her dust falls to the floor, Flowey says, “You might as well just kill them yourself, you know.”

 

Same process, this time only leaving Papyrus. As the skeleton turns to dust Flowey says, “His dust is on your hands.”

 

Grillby.

 

“You’re the reason they keep dying.”

 

Averia. 

 

“All your fault.”

 

Sans. 

 

“You really don’t care, do you?”

 

Ferrin.

 

“Did you ever actually care about them?”

 

Grillby again.

 

“Or were you just pretending?”

 

Papyrus.

 

“You’re the reason they keep dying.”

 

You give up, falling to your knees as the reset hits again, your friends alive again only so that they can die horribly. Flowey’s playing with you, all of you. He lets you fight because he thinks it’s funny that you keep trying. He demonstrates that by grabbing everyone with you at once and dispatching them swiftly. As blood and dust fall onto the golden tiles he looks straight at you.

 

“So, did the message get through or should we keep doing this?”

 

There’s no way out. You’re completely at his mercy. There is nothing keeping him from doing this for eternity - or finding something worse. It's obvious that he's enjoying himself, taking joy from every new reaction he worms out of you. 

 

“I guess you need some more time for this to sink in, don't-”

 

“I'll do it,” you say, interrupting him. What's the worst he could do? Kill you? Hah.

 

“Just like that, huh?” he mocks.

 

“Just like that,” you echo, because what else can you do? Everyone you love is in danger. If you can only save them by dying, so be it.

 

Besides, it's your fault Ferrin's down here in the first place, your fault that Abe must be at his house thinking both you and Ferrin are dead. Your fault you'd been taking a vacation underground instead of doing what any responsible person would have and breaking the barrier. And, really, your fault that this situation was even possible. If you hadn't wanted to see the underground… if you’d nipped your feelings for Sans in the bud...  if you hadn't made yourself a part of their lives… Maybe everything would've been alright if someone else had been the one to take in the monsters.

 

You can almost feel Flowey’s rising impatience like it's a physical presence, and you know you've got maybe a minute before he decides to reload for the fun of it. No, there isn't some brilliant plan to save yourself. There is no purely happy ending, no sugar sweet solution. And if anyone has to die… why shouldn't it be you?

 

_ No _ , Chara says firmly.

 

You take a moment to steady yourself before looking up at the thing tormenting you and the ones you love. He looks bored, idly examining his paw like vines. As you look up, he gazes back, smile slowly widening. 

 

“Soooo?”

 

You cup your soul protectively. “What are you going to do?”

 

“Become god,” Flowey says idly. 

 

“I meant when you reset.”

 

“Oh, the usual. You’ll trade yourself for the hostages, and if anything goes wrong I'll kill everyone and start over again,” he declares cheerfully.

 

You don't know if Flowey will keep his promise, or if you can escape the others before they figure out what's going on. You aren't sure if you can fight him from the inside like the souls did in-game, or if he has some kind of plan to prevent that - or really even if you’ll be able to fight after offering your soul instead of having it taken. But the way things are going all you can hope to do is buy time for the others to escape. Guess Flowey was right - you are selfish.

 

_ Be selfish! You can't die! _

 

“Fine.”

 

_ No! _

 

The word rings throughout the Judgement Hall before everything crumbles away into a reset that isn't able to get rid of the victorious laughter ringing in your ears.

  
  
  
  
  
  


You're back with Sans in front of his house. The scene in front of you is confusing - Undyne is shouting, Toriel demanding an explanation while Frisk turns towards you, questions on the tip of their fingers. Chara is a shrieking ball of rage in your head, howling their fury, Frisk's face slowly melting into horror.

 

_ I’m sorry, _ you try to think as loudly as possible so that Chara can hear you.

 

_ If you’re sorry then find a better way! _ they roar.

 

You wrap your fingers around Sans’, saying, “Let's go. I have a plan.”

 

“What about-”

 

“We don’t need them,” you say quickly, seeing Frisk escaping from Toriel’s grip. “And we’ve got to hurry.”

 

The world falls away and you find yourself in front of the hall. “What're ya gonna do?”

 

You don't respond, shoving him back as you jolt into motion. You can hear Sans hit the floor behind you as you clear the doorway. Your magic reacts to your emotions, reaching out ahead and behind you. Ferrin and Papyrus’ souls are there, beautiful as ever if slightly duller. You can feel Chara more clearly than ever, their shouting almost reaching your ears instead of roaring through your mind. Your magic comes to you naturally now that it knows it doesn't have to preserve your life, reacting to your determination to protect those you love, wrapping itself around their souls. You're not sure what he sees of your plan, but Sans cries out behind you, gathering his magic to stop you, pull you back, but he's too late.

 

You dodge behind the nearest pillar, breaking his line of sight, then keep sprinting. The pillars and moving vines block you from his view just well enough that he can't grab ahold of you, and before he can teleport inside he's wrapped up in Flowey’s vines, held still outside.

 

Flowey then shoves Papyrus and Ferrin outside with him, holding them still as they struggle. You come to a halt in front of the monstrous plant, unable to hold back the fear making you shake. You turn back to catch one last glimpse of them, burning it into your mind.

 

You reach out with your soul, thinking the words as clearly as you can.  _ I love you. Now run. _

 

Chara’s there somewhere, shouting obscenities at you as you turn again, facing Flowey with your arms spread wide. He doesn't give you time to change your decision.

 

Vines pierce your chest, and you almost can't feel the pain through the torrent of love, fear, sorrow and horror coming through your link. As your body slumps, resting entirely on the vines protruding from your ribcage, you rally your thoughts and mentally shout,  _ RUN! _

 

Twin howls of pain tear through your soul, your mind, and your heart, and then the connection is gone. Your vision is fading, taken over by a black veil but you feel gratitude well up inside of you.  _ Thank you, Sans. _

 

Chara sobs, Flowey laughs, you mourn the loss of your future.

 

And then, you feel nothing.

  
  
  
  
  


Ferrin reels, blinded by white after too long in the dark. It's loud, a different loud from the awful sound of Flowey's constantly moving vines. People are shouting, a bright teal glow coming from one side, hands on her shoulders, concerned voice in her ears. She doesn't bother to reply.

 

You're gone. She'd been terrified to wake up in that hall and realize that no one was there, and then all of the sudden she'd felt you. It was impossible to not recognize your soul - it felt like home, like freshly baked cookies on her tongue, the smell of old books, the rustle of paper, midnight conversations and years of experiences together. Your love for her, for Sans, for Papyrus, for so many others she couldn't name. She'd also instantly known what your plan was, and that all of the words in the world wouldn't convince you not to go through with it. That hadn't stopped her from adding her voice to Sans and Papyrus’ for all the good it did. 

 

_ I love you. _

 

She chokes on a sob as she remembers your words, spoken from a place that could neither lie nor obscure the truth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively titled: Reader, NO. Reader I said-! Welp. Alrighty then.
> 
> In the interest of not being a complete jerk: No, MiR isn't over. We're about 3/4 of the way done though!
> 
> Comments will hopefully be responded to within the next couple of days, so if you see a message from me responding to something you wrote two months ago, you'll at least have had a warning?


	47. Hope In Dark Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of poor decisions. (Alternatively titled 'IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED READER. IS IT.')
> 
> Beta Reader: [Nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Ao3 Tumblr: [Fae-Ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

“Sans! Why would you do that?” Papyrus shouts. “Wh- Sans?!”

Papyrus spins around, searching for his brother who is nowhere to be seen. He’s not alone in his confusion - everyone is baffled, shouts and demands for answers filling the snowy area. In the confusion Ferrin stands forgotten. She can distantly hear Papyrus providing a much shortened explanation of what he knows while she feels the world trying to break apart at the seams because her sibling can’t just not exist. It’s not possible. She won’t allow it.

“No,” Ferrin says, shaking her head as her brain refuses to start up again. “They’re not…. no.”

“We have to go save them!” Ferrin shouts, running towards the dock where the River Person could be found.

Undyne moves to block her way, scowling ferociously. “What the fuck is going on? Your sibling and Sans disappear and then you’re back and they’re not with you?!”

“Look, we have to go now,” Ferrin says, trying to dodge around her, only to be blocked by a spear. “Come on! We have to go!”

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!”

“The fucking moron decided to sacrifice themselves! They went up to that fucking flower and- and-” Ferrin chokes on her words before shouting in irritation. “Just let me go!”

“You can’t possibly-” Undyne begins.

Ferrin feels a gentle hand on her shoulder and turns to see Toriel, cradling what looks to be an unconscious Frisk in her arms. She won’t quite look at her, shifting her feet nervously. “Ferrin, from what Papyrus says… My friend, I do not think it would be wise to return.”

Ferrin jerks backwards, Toriel’s hand no longer connecting to her shoulder but still hovering there nervously. “What the hell are you talking about!? That’s my sibling back there with that thing! They’re all alone!”

“Ferrin, please, they did not die so th-"

“THEY AREN’T DEAD!” Ferrin screams, drowning out the rest of the sentence.

Toriel looks shocked. “Please, child you must see sense-”

Ferrin strides forward, jabbing a finger at Toriel’s chest - or, more accurately, her stomach - as she shouts, “You don’t get it! They’re my sibling! My only sibling, the most- most important person in my f-fucking life-!”

“Ferrin please, stop this!” Papyrus says, coming up from behind a stunned Toriel. “You cannot go alone! We require a plan, or at the very least-”

“So that’s how it is, huh?” Ferrin interrupts, glaring at both of them, tears still threatening to fall.

“Child, please,” Toriel begs, “You cannot accomplish anything alone.”

Ferrin stalks away, ignoring her words completely. She clambers into the waiting boat and turns to the River Person. “Take me to the castle.”

“I do not think I shall~,” they hum.

“Wha- You can’t do that!”

Ferrin glares up at the River Person and suddenly finds herself floating. Their magic places her on the ground in front of the boat gently but firmly.

“Tra la la. Beware, the angel is coming~,” the River Person says, as though nothing had happened.

Ferrin backs away, throat tight and eyes hot with unshed tears. “Fine then! I’ll just get there on my own!”

“You won’t get anywhere,” Undyne says. “Hotland’s totally locked down and Waterfall is nearly there too.”

Ferrin spins around, teeth bared. “I’ll find a way through!”

“There is no way through,” Papyrus says sadly. “Please, Ferrin, we are not asking you to give up on your sibling, merely to wait until we have a plan.”

“They don’t have the time we need to make a plan! They’re going to die!” 

“If they’re in that much danger, they’re already dead,” Undyne says firmly.

“No they aren’t!” Ferrin shouts.

“Ferrin, please-” Toriel tries again.

“Fuck off!” Ferrin shouts, unwilling to listen or deal with the turmoil in her chest. She doesn’t want to hear that you’re probably dead, doesn’t want to listen to logic, in that moment wishes neither of you had ever met the monsters in the first place.

“Look kid, there’s no point running over there right now, okay?” Averia says, walking closer. “It’s all going to be-”

Panic and sorrow clash with each other, rational thought strangled in between. Ferrin bolts, feet carrying her past the startled monsters before anyone can react. If nothing else, at least giving into her primal instincts lets her feel like she’s doing something.

  
  
  


“Uh…” Averia says, staring after the fleeing woman. “That could’ve gone better.”

“Averia!” Toriel says sternly. “This is not a joke! Someone must go after her before she hurts herself.”

Papyrus shifts nervously, glancing around the clearing. “I fear I am not the best monster for this mission, as I must find my brother… Can you not do it, former queen Toriel?”

Toriel shakes her head solemnly. “My child needs me. They have yet to wake up… I need to check on their health.”

“And I’ve gotta get to the king. Wait, you will take me there, right?” Undyne asks the River Person.

The River Person just continues humming, ignoring her entirely. Undyne’s eye twitches. “OI! CAN I GET ON THE BOAT OR NOT?!”

“Tra la la. If it’s hot or cold you can count on me~.”

“WHAT THE HELL DOES- You know what, I’m gonna take that as a yes,” Undyne groans, turning back to the group. “Anyways I’m booked. And Grillby’s gotta reopen the restaurant or people are going to start demanding answers we can’t give.”

All four monsters turn their gazes to Averia, who sighs. “Yeah, I get it. The kid doesn’t really have any reason to listen to me though.”

Toriel pauses for a few moments, and when she speaks again her words are slow and measured. “Maybe not, but I believe that you may be the only one who can understand her sibling’s situation.”

“I guess. See you in a bit,” Averia says as she sets off.

“What was that all about?” Undyne asks.

“It is her responsibility to tell us if she so chooses. Until then, I believe all of us have jobs to accomplish?” Toriel reminds her.

With only a few more exchanged words the group splits, Toriel to the inn to look after Frisk, Papyrus to find Sans, and Undyne heads to the boat. 

Once she’s settled, she says, “Take me to the castle. Please.”

The River Person doesn’t acknowledge her, but the boat does head off in the right direction. 

Undyne sighs, running a hand over her face tiredly. “Feels like I’ve run the entire underground ten times today. What the hell was that human thinking?”

“Alas,” the River Person hums as the boat slides away from the docks, “A librarby is useful only to those who can read… And the one behind the strings may find that they cannot always control their puppets~.”

Undyne starts, staring up at the cloaked figure she hadn’t expected to be listening. “Wait, you know what’s going on?”

“Tra la la. Don’t snoop behind people’s houses… People might mistake you for a trashcan~.”

Undyne groans. “Right. Should’ve known not to ask you.”

  
  
  
  
  


Ferrin hasn’t been running for long when she hears footsteps pounding into the snow behind her. She pushes herself to go faster, muscles screaming as she forces them through the loosely packed snow. She hasn’t gone far before she’s forced to acknowledge that the person behind her is going a good deal faster than she is. Despite that it isn’t until they grab her arm and pull her to a halt that she shakes them off and turns to face them.

“What the fuck do you want?” she growls.

Averia - and it would be her, wouldn’t it - says, “Well for one, we don’t really know where that flower thing is and we don’t want your soul taken too. Plus with Papyrus off trying to find his brother we’re kind of left with you for information.”

“He already told you everything,” Ferrin says dully.

“Except for why the hell your sibling thought it was a good idea to hand their soul over.”

“They wanted to save us,” Ferin says, voice breaking as tears appear in her eyes once more.

“And giving that thing more power was a good idea because…?”

Ferrin just shrugs, staring at the snow. Averia repeats her question, and when she’s met with silence she makes a noise of irritation.

“Look,” Averia begins, “Your sibling isn’t dead. At least not really.”

Ferrin raises her eyes, glaring at the skeleton. “Will you fuck off? I just lost my only real family. You guys don’t need me for anything, I’m useless. Just… leave me alone.”

“You little-” Averia begins. She breaks off before Ferrin can tell her to go screw herself, looking like she’s having an internal debate. Ferrin resumes staring at the snow, wishing she could just run away from her problems.

Averia makes a sound like she’s clearing her throat. “Hello, Ferrin.”

“Averia I told you to go shove it,” Ferrin growls.

“Then it is a good thing I am not Averia,” Averia says dryly.

That rouses Ferrin out of her funk. Irritated but mostly confused, she looks up and says, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Averia holds out her hand, expression solemn. “We have yet to be formally introduced. I am Theodore.”

Ferrin stares at the offered hand in confusion. “Dude, are you feeling alright? Did the resets mess with your brain or what?”

“While I do realize things may have changed over the centuries, in my time when one offered to shake hands it was considered incredibly rude to refuse,” Averia says sternly.

“Dude you sound like my mother,” Ferrin says, confusion overwhelming everything else. To appease the now incredibly huffy looking Averia, she takes her hand and shakes it.

“Why do you persist in calling me Dude? My name is, as I have already stated, Theodore.”

“Uhhh…?”

Averia cocks her head to the side as though listening to a voice Ferrin can’t hear. “Ah, your confusion is understandable. Averia has informed me, in her incredibly rude manner, that ‘dude’ is not, in fact, a name, but a term of endearment.”

Baffled, Ferrin tries and fails to come up with a response. As she sits there sputtering, Averia’s expression shifts abruptly, going from solemn to amused.

“Sorry, Theo’s a bit much. If you’d believe it he was like that even before he was stuck as a soul for three hundred years,” she says.

Ferrin stares at Averia for a moment, mouth gaping open before she snaps it shut. Gritting her teeth to keep the curses she’d love to fling at the skeleton behind them she began marching away.

“What the- Where are you going?” Averia asks..

Ferrin spins around, hands balled into fists. “Away from you!  _ What the fuck is wrong with you _ ?!”

“What do you mean?” Averia asks, looking genuinely confused.

“I mean, who the fuck does that?! I just lost my sibling, okay? And they’re gone, and we’ve lived together ever since I was born, and- and I can’t imagine living without t-them, and they died trying to protect m-me! And I- I couldn’t do anyth-thing!” Ferrin wails,yet more tears tipping over the edge of her eyelids.

Averia looks thoroughly offput, eye lights darting around like she’s looking for the trees to rescue her. When Ferrin continues crying Averia cautiously edges closer until she’s within arms reach. There she pauses again before speaking tentatively.

“Look, we’re both really sorry if we kinda messed that one up. Theo thinks maybe you didn’t understand what we were trying to get across - human souls don’t die when they’re separated from their bodies. Or, uh, at least not when they’re absorbed by a monster.”

Ferrin freezes, breath catching in her throat. “You’re lying.”

“We’re not.”

Ferrin looks up, dashing the tears from her eyes. Averia’s expression looks sincere, although uncertain. “If you’re lying I swear to any gods you believe in that you’ll regret it.”

“She is not,” Averia - Theodore? - says. “I am no more dead than your sibling is.”

“Prove it,” Ferrin demands.

“I am not entirely certain that is possible,” Theodore says, frowning. “I have not tried to use my own magic for many years.”

Ferrin stops, trying to force her brain to work. Averia does look subtly different, if she really pays attention. Her expression has slipped from its usual irritated look to something more solemn, her stance unusually rigid.

“Okay, assuming I believed you, what difference does it make?” Ferrin asks. “Can Theo take over if he wants to? Can you separate your souls?”

“Er… I admit I have never tried to, as you say, ‘take over’,” Theodore says uncomfortably. “I am not certain it is possible to do so, and as far as I know nobody has managed to successfully separate souls once they have been bound.”

Ferrin feels her frustration rising. “So what, did you guys just want me to know that my sibling is basically tied up so that they can be used while not being able to do anything about it?”

“No, we wanted you to know that there’s no reason to give up and accept that they’re dead. [Your name]’s still alive, and if we work together, we can find a way to get them back,” Averia says.

“But how? It’s not like we can just make them a body!”

“Er… Why wouldn’t we be able to?” 

“Huh?” Ferrin asks, confused.

“I mean somebody had to make your friends, right? They’d probably know how to bind a soul to a skeleton.”

“I- What?!”

“Or I guess some kinda element if that’s more your style?”

“No, I- I think I lost track of this conversation somewhere along the line, what the hell are you talking about ‘someone had to make my friends’?”

“Sans and Papyrus? You know, walking talking skeletons?”

“What about Sans and Papyrus?” Ferrin asks, frustration rising again.

“Do you not… know?” Averia asks, confused.

“Know what?!”

“Ferrin, do you know how skeleton monsters are made?” Averia asks slowly.

“The same as any other monster? Look, is this really important right now?”

Averia seems to be having an internal argument as she watches Ferrin. Whatever conclusion she comes to is unvoiced as she turns away. “Yeah, it is. C’mon, I’ll explain on the way back.”

Ferrin scrambles to catch up to her only hope. “My sibling could come back as a skeleton monster? You’re not lying?”

“If we can get their soul back, yeah. Well, and their skeleton, if that’s what you think they’d want.”

Ferrin stumbles as she realizes the implications of what Averia just said. “You can’t- You mean you’re, you know….?”

“Made of a human skeleton? Yeah. Your friends are too.”

“But how?! There haven’t been any skeleton monsters coming out of graveyards! Or… god, I really hope there haven’t…” Ferrin trails off, hoping against hope that there hadn’t been monsters trapped in their coffins or killed upon clawing their way out.

“Unless somebody was making them, probably not.”

Ferrin takes a minute to absorb that information before asking, “So… how does that work?”

Averia sighs. “I’m really not the best one to ask. I can only give you the basics.”

“That’s fine.”

“Alright… Well, first off, have you ever heard of ghosts?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Ghosts, elementals, and skeletons are all monsters that were originally human. Or, well, they should be, but I’ll get to that in a minute. Ghosts are the least complicated - take a human soul and add some magic and you’ve got a ghost monster. Elementals are the same idea, but the soul and magic bind themselves to something. Usually elements - a human who died in a magically set fire might become a fire elemental, one who drowned could become a water elemental, someone who died from a particularly strong magical attack might form their body of that magic, those kinds of things.”

“That sounds… weird,” Ferrin says as the two women reach the relatively well worn path from the forest to Snowdin. She notes that she had gotten surprisingly far - they’re quite a few turns away from being able to see the town. “So what about skeleton monsters?”

“Pretty much the same thing. Magic, a human soul, a mostly intact skeleton, monster dust, and other dead humans. The soul draws in something from their bodies - Mary and the Royal Scientist were trying to figure out what that was before we lost the war. Anyways, all of those things combine to make a new skeleton monster. We were usually ‘born’ on battlefields.”

Ferrin digests that slowly, turning the new information over in her head. If that was true - and Averia had little motivation to lie - then Papyrus, Sans, and Grillby all used to be human. And the River Person, now that she thought about it. “So is it voluntary? Or does it just kinda happen?”

“It takes a certain kind of person to cling on after their bodies die. My memories of the change are pretty fuzzy but I know I wanted to stick around, yeah. Skeleton monsters who were born naturally weren’t usually bothered by the change.”

“‘Born naturally’?” Ferrin echoes.

“Yeah, it’s what I mentioned earlier. It didn’t happen often but there were people - monsters and humans, mind you - who experimented with the dead. Human souls stick around longer than monster souls. Long enough that they could be taken and used for… things. That or torn apart and used to create monster souls that could then be implanted into whatever body had been prepared.”

“That’s awful!” Ferrin says, appalled. 

“Most people agreed with you. Magore was one of many kings who made laws against it. It was one of the Royal Guard’s biggest responsibilities.”

“Uh… Well, no offense or anything, but wouldn’t it have been a good thing if they made more monsters?”

“Not really. Made humans a good deal less willing to put up with us being nearby if they thought we might be stealing the dead and using them for ‘unholy crimes against the gods’,” Averia says, rolling her eyes at the idea. “Didn’t stop it from happening, but at least we got to execute the bastards who did it.”

“But wait,” Ferrin says as they start walking across the bridge, “Why do you think Papyrus and Sans were made like that? Couldn’t they just have fallen with the rest?”

“Probably not. Skeleton monsters made much better fighters than most monsters. We’re sturdier, and our magic doesn’t follow quite the same rules monster magic does. Most of us stayed behind to keep the army at bay. Less of them made it up the mountain the better.”

“What was it like?” Ferrin asks. As soon as it’s out of her mouth she regrets the question.

Averia’s voice is bitter, her shoulders tense as she says, “Everyone I was responsible for protecting died. What do you think it was like?”

Ferrin decides to keep her mouth shut as they continue. Besides, Averia’s given her quite a bit to think about. Would you appreciate being brought back as a monster? Would you hate her if she gave the okay? She knows you hadn’t wanted to die, but coming back in a body that wasn’t yours?

She shakes her head to clear it as she approaches the skeleton brother’s house, where Toriel and a distressed looking Frisk are standing. Those were questions for later. What mattered now is that you are alive, even if your situation probably wasn’t what she’d wish. She just has to find a way to bring you back. 

Because you are coming back. Even if she has to do it by herself.

“Hey,” she calls, catching the attention of the two at the door. 

“Ferrin!” Toriel says, relieved. “My child where have you been?”

“Getting my head screwed on straight by Averia,” Ferrin says, nodding towards the skeleton. “What’s going on here?”

Toreil sighs, glancing at the door forlornly. “I fear that Sans may not be taking it as well as you. Neither he nor Papyrus will answer us.”

“Well he doesn’t know what I do,” Ferrin says, stepping up to the door herself. She knocks on the door, calling, “Papyrus? Sans?”

After a few moments of silence Toriel says, “That is the response we have been receiving as well. Perhaps it would be best to leave. They may not want to be bothered at the moment.”

“I don’t really care. We’ve got to get moving,” Ferrin says, scowling. This time she pounds on the door, making her fist smart as she shouts, “Hey! [Your name] isn’t dead! We can save-”

Ferrin breaks off as Toriel’s phone starts ringing loudly. Toriel takes it out and says, “Oh! Papyrus is calling me.”

She answers it and says, “Hello?”

The other three can just barely hear an irritated voice on the other end. Toriel winces and responds, “Yes, and I am most sorry but-”

More irritated words. “I am aware, yes.”

“Papyrus I do not-”

“I… Alright.”

Toriel sighs deeply before holding out the phone to Ferrin. “He wishes to speak to you.”

“Hey Papyrus, sorry about the door,” Ferrin says as she presses the phone to hear ear.

Papyrus sounds tired and worn out, much like she herself feels. “Ferrin you are my dear friend and so I ask you to trust me when I say that lying to Sans is a foolish venture.”

“About them not being dead? They’re not! Sorta.”

Papyrus sighs. “I am disinclined to believe you a liar, but I felt their death just as you did.”

“Their body is dead, but their soul isn’t! And Averia says that you guys were created by somebody, right? So we can bring them back just like you were!”

Papyrus is silent for several long moments before he speaks again, his voice strained. “Excuse me?”

“You… were created, right?” Ferrin asks, feeling the world on the edge of falling apart again.

“I… yes. We were.” The line falls silent again, Ferrin waiting with baited breath for her friend’s answer. When it finally comes, his speech is, if anything, more tense than before. “Hand the phone to Averia, please.”

“He wants to talk to you,” Ferrin says, handing off the device.

“What is it?” Averia asks. “Yeah, I do know.”

“What do you mean, how?”

“It’s the only way for you two to exist? Do you- Seriously?! But then where’s the monster who made you?”

“You don’t know.”

“You sure he does?”

“Right. Right.”

“That makes two of us.” 

“No, it’s normal… Or at least not that unusual, we had someone on the Guard who was created that way back when I was in it.”

Averia hands the phone back to Ferrin without a word. Ferrin tentatively asks, “What’s up?”

“I wish I knew. Look, Ferrin… I am not certain that Sans hasn’t already thought of this and dismissed it. There may be a reason it is impossible,” Papyrus says heavily.

“I know. But it’s a chance, you know?”

“I do. I will speak with Sans… Assuming he answers me.”

Papyrus sounds defeated, almost like he’s given up. “Hey, Paps, you doing alright?”

“About as well as I can be expected to be. I am worried mostly for you and my brother, I admit.”

“I’m doing alright. Sans is going to be okay, Paps. We’re all here for him… and you.”

“I would certainly hope so!” Papyrus says with a modicum of his usual excitement.

“Hey, what else are friends for, right?”

Papyrus laughs quietly. “Precisely. Now I must attend to my brotherly duties. We will hopefully be down soon.”

“Good luck Paps. We’re here cheering for you.”

“Thank you Ferrin,” Papyrus says before he hangs up.

“Are they alright?” Toriel asks as she takes her phone back.

“I don’t think so,” Ferrin admits. “But I think we’ve got a pretty good chance of fixing this.”

“I am relieved to hear it… What did he wish to discuss with you Averia?”

“He asked how I knew he and his brother had been created instead of born. I dunno how much Sans explained to him but it sounded like he didn’t know how skeleton monsters are usually made,” Averia says. “I can’t imagine how or why.”

“It may have been information lost over time. Humans and monsters have not lived together for three hundred years, after all,” Toriel points out.

“I guess so…”

“Not much point waiting out here in the cold,” Ferrin says after a long lull in the conversation. “You guys want to head to Grillby’s?”

The group heads off, Ferrin falling to the back as she glances at the house in worry once again. She starts walking only to be distracted by a tapping on her arm. She looks down to find Frisk standing there. “Oh, hey Frisk! How are you? You didn’t look so hot earlier.”

Frisk shakes their head, pointing first at themselves, then making a thumbs up with both of their hands.

“You’re good, huh?” Ferrin asks, receiving a nod in response.

Frisk points at her and tilts their head to the side in a clear question.

“I’m… alright. It looks like we have a chance to fix things so I can’t just give up.”

They nod, smiling. As the group goes inside of the bar they go to Toriel again and take ahold of her hand. As they sit Grillby approaches.

“What is going on?” he asks, whispering voice just barely audible over the clatter of the lunch crowd.

“I would like to know as well,” Toriel says.

Ferrin fills in the information that Toriel had missed about the fight with Flowey as well as the events that all but she had missed. 

Toriel reaches across the table and takes her hand as she describes the last reset, her hand large enough to cover hers entirely. “I know what it is like to lose your family members… My own died in the war.”

A hand almost too warm for comfort descends upon Ferrin’s shoulder. She looks up to find Grillby regarding her. “I too understand your loss.”

Ferrin nods, barely holding off tears. After a minute Averia continues the story from where she and Ferrin had met in the forest. Once everyone is informed of the new plan, the table falls silent.

“Who on earth could have known how to infuse a skeleton with a soul? Or have created one, for that matter?” Toreil asks, clearly disturbed.

“The Royal Scientist,” Grillby says.

“They would’ve known all about the process. They were the only one who could check the monster’s health when we brought in the created ones,” Averia confirms. 

Toriel frowns. “But what kind of monster would have done that?”

“I never spent much time in the labs,” Grillby says. “Capt- Averia, you were there often, were you not?”

“Yeah, I was. I don’t really remember anything about the Royal Scientist though,” Averia says, looking confused. “I… feel like I should. I don’t know why.”

“It would have been odd had you not at least met them,” Toriel says.

“Yeah, I know, but I can’t remember a single thing about them. That’s weird, right? I knew Mary… I remember her house. I should’ve known her spouse, right?”

“Perhaps they were not very memorable?” Toriel suggests.

Averia shakes her head sharply, pain clear in her expression. “No, that’s not it. This headache isn’t helping either…”

Toriel’s turning back to question Ferrin when the door to the bar abruptly swings open. In addition to a flurry of snowflakes it admits Undyne and a small lizard-like monster in a lab coat, who are shortly followed by none other than Asgore himself. The three of them head directly to the group’s table.

Toriel stands up to face the king, shielding Frisk behind her. “If you are here to harm them, I swear-”

“I unfortunately have far greater concerns,” Asgore says solemnly. “I have much to discuss with all of you. We have secured a room in the inn to discuss this in private, if that is acceptable.”

Grillby excuses himself from the group in favor of maintaining order in his bar. Toriel seems reluctant, but joins the group when Ferrin does. She’s holding onto Frisk’s hand like she’s ready to run away with the child if it proves necessary the entire way to the inn though, Ferrin notices.

When they arrive they find that the room has been hastily cleared, the bed pushed to one side in favor of the addition of more chairs. Once everyone’s seated - Toriel and Frisk as far away from the king and as close to the door as the ex-queen can manage - Asgore begins.

“As everyone in this room is aware, there was a crisis in the castle this morning. It was invaded by a monster named Flowey, who wrecked havoc and, for all we are able to deduce, must have been able to play with time itself. Ignoring the many questions that are raised by this monster’s existence, we are more concerned with the fact that he has taken seven human souls. We have checked the castle thoroughly and been unable to find him. The barrier is unbroken. The Royal Guard is currently scouring the underground searching for him. Do any of you have any idea where he may have hidden?”

Ferrin speaks up when no one else does. “I met him in the Ruins when I first fell down here. He just looked like a yellow flower with a face back there though. He told me that he was your friend, Asgore, and that Toriel didn’t much like him… He pretended to be friendly. Papyrus also knows him, because when we met him in Waterfall he said he was Flowey’s friend. It seems like he moves around though so I have no idea where he would be now.”

“I do not believe I have ever met a yellow flower monster before,” Asgore says thoughtfully.

“I have seen him on several occasions,” Toriel confirms. “I have never had a conversation with him, however.”

The lizard monster makes a strange, strangled noise from where they’re sitting. As Ferrin turns to face them she notices that they’re shaking, sweat beading on their forehead.

“Yes, Alphys? Do you have any information on the matter?” Asgore asks.

“N-n-n-n-n-no, no, I-I, m-m-m-maybe?” Alphys says, their voice high and panicky.

“Woah, Alph, what’s wrong?” Undyne asks.

Alphys is trying to stop stammering for long enough to speak and only managing to work themselves into a panic when someone knocks on the door. The poor monster nearly jumps out of their skin.

“Yes?” Asgore calls.

“It is I, the Great Papyrus! And my brother!” Papyrus declares from the other side of the door. “Grillby has informed us that- Sans! That is very rude!”

The door swings open as Papyrus continues scolding his brother. Aside from the rather fixed look of his grin, Sans looks… surprisingly normal? Ferrin can’t help but be surprised as his gaze sweeps the room.

“What’s goin’ on.” Ferrin winces at the flat tone of Sans’ voice, the only real indication of any kind of problem.

“We’ve got a way to help my sibling,” she says before anyone else can.

“S’that right.”

“Well… Maybe? Papyrus thought that you might-”

Ferrin breaks off as her phone rings shrilly. 

“You are able to receive phone calls down here?” Toriel asks.

“Uh… No?” Ferrin says, pulling out her phone. “It lost battery like two days ago, it shouldn’t even be able to turn on?”

The caller ID is displayed as [REDACTED], the phone number a series of digits shifting too quickly for her to be able to read it. 

“Don’t answer that,” Sans says sharply, the first display of emotion from him since entering the room.

“Why not?” Ferrin asks.

Whatever Sans is about to say is blocked out by the sound of static now coming from Ferrin’s cellphone. She looks down to find that her phone has accepted the call without her input.

“How rude, Sans. You should be more polite to your father,” the voice on the other end of the line says. It’s deep and masculine but cold, spoken in a tone more condescending than insulted.

“We have a father?!” Papyrus asks as Sans’ right eye turns completely dark, the other lighting up bright blue.

“Ah, ah, ah. So temperamental. And here I was going to offer my assistance.”

“We don’t need it,” Sans says flatly.

“Oh but you do. I have seen this exact scenario play out infinite times. You want a happy ending, no? I can give that to you.”

“Who the fuck is that?” Undyne demands.

“Someone working with Flowey?” Averia asks, staring the phone down like it’s about to explode.

“Why, Averia. It is a pleasure. It has been, what, three hundred years? My how the time flies when you don’t exist,” the voice on the other end says.

“Do we know each other?” Averia asks.

“In a manner of speaking. Dear Toriel and Asgore should recognize me as well.”

“I do not believe I know anyone quite this rude,” Toriel says, glaring down at the offending phone.

“I admit I do not know who you are either. I apologize, but what is your name?” Asgore asks.

“Don’t-” Sans begins, throwing out his hand like he’s going to grab the phone from ten feet away.

“Why, I’m Wing Dings Gaster, of course.”

All three of the older monsters stiffen as the phone flies into the opposing wall and shatters into pieces. A moment later Asgore and Averia have fallen to the floor, out cold as Toriel cries out in pain and clutches her head. A thud from behind Ferrin has her turning around to find Papyrus unconscious as well, an incredibly angry looking Sans beside him.

Sans sighs, eyes returning to normal. “Well fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! After a week of not-so-great I am back and ready for action! Or more writing. That counts, right?
> 
> My beta suggested that I remind you that yes, Averia has absorbed a human soul. Yes, his name is Theodore and he really is speaking here. If it's a bit confusing to tell who's speaking it's because Ferrin is confused as well. (Hint: Averia likes contractions and favors a lazier speaking style while Theodore tends towards more formal speech and generally won't use contractions. Hope that helps!) 
> 
> Interestingly enough only one line of the River Person's speech was something I wrote - the others are things that they say in-game. (The Undertale wiki has been immensely helpful.)
> 
> Also. Gaster. Buddy. Consider maybe being less of a prick? Maybe. Might help.
> 
> I'm not quite up for talking just yet but I really am hoping to be able to answer comments soon, and I am very sorry for not having responded yet!


	48. Step Infinity And One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Here's a chapter with a few reveals I've been waiting on for a while. Hope you enjoy! (There's a Straw Poll I'd like you all to answer in the ending notes if you don't mind!!)
> 
> Beta Reader: [Nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> My Ao3 Tumblr: [Fae-Ryn](http://fae-ryn.tumblr.com/)

Fifteen minutes later Ferrin has no more idea what’s going on than she did before. Papyrus, Averia, and Asgore are still out cold, even though they’ve been moved onto ‘beds’ made of spare blankets provided by the very confused innkeeper. Sans has absolutely refused to speak about the situation, instead taking a seat by Papyrus. Undyne would probably have helped get answers out of him if she wasn’t preoccupied with making sure that the king and her friend were alright, and Alphys was in a similar situation. Toriel had left the room not a minute after everyone had passed out and had yet to return, Frisk following her out not long after.

Ferrin has taken to pacing nearby to try to work off some of her nervous energy. She’s so wound up that when Asgore groans and sits up she nearly jumps out of her skin.

“What on…?” Asgore asks, looking around blearily. His eyes come to rest on Papyrus and Averia, and his eyes widen in surprise. “Oh my.”

“Asgore! Are you alright?!” Undyne asks.

“I am just fine. Am I correct in assuming that they fainted when I did?”

“Y-y-yes! What o-on earth-th is go-going on?” Alphys asks.

“I admit I am not entirely certain,” Asgore confesses. “I do, however, plan on finding out.”

“If you’re gonna ask anybody it’d better be him,” Undyne snarls, pointing at Sans. “He won’t tell us what the hell is going on, or why he broke that phone.”

Just as she finishes speaking Papyrus sits up abruptly, eye sockets wide and searching.

“Papyrus!” Ferrin exclaims, “Are you okay?”

“What happened?” he asks.

“Nothin’ important bro. C’mon, let’s go home,” Sans says, standing up and offering his brother a hand up.

“Absolutely not,” Asgore says commandingly. “I require answers that I believe you have, Sans.”

“Who says I’ve got ‘em? Maybe I just thought a phone call to a dead phone from some mystery guy was suspicious. Who could blame me?” Sans asks with a casual shrug.

Asgore shakes his head, looking at Papyrus solemnly. “I thought you might say that. Papyrus. Who is Doctor Wing Dings Gaster to you?”

Papyrus hesitates. “I… I think he was my father. I have never remembered him before now, however.”

This apparently means something to Asgore, who sighs and presses a hand to his eyes. “My friend, what had you gotten yourself into…?”

Undyne, who has been looking increasingly frustrated, finally explodes. “What’s going on!? How’d we forget about the old Royal Scientist, huh?! Why did you pass out?”

“That is what I would like to know,” Asgore says, fixing the skeleton brothers with a stern gaze. “If he was Papyrus’ father then both of you should have known him very well. What happened to Doctor W.D. Gaster?”

“I don’t know,” Sans insists. “The guy just up and disappeared one day, how the hell am I supposed to know where he went?”

“I do not believe you. I will ask you only one more time. As your king, I demand to know what happened to my Royal Scientist,” Asgore says, his tone allowing no argument.

And yet Ferrin can see it in the way the bone around Sans’ eyes tenses, the way his grin widens just enough to border menacing that he’s about to do just that. “I do-”

Sans doesn’t finish his sentence as Averia bolts off of the floor, summoned bones clustered in the air around her. Her eye sockets flicker to life as she takes in the room and lock onto Sans and Papyrus. “ _You.”_

“Averia, do not act rashly,” Asgore says.

Ignoring the king entirely, Averia hisses, “ _Where is he?_ ”

“Like I said, I dunno. It’s been one hundred and fifty years since I last saw him. Now my bro and I are gonna go home,” Sans says, turning to leave.

Summoned bones instantly block their way. “Like hell you are. Tell me where Gaster is, now!”

A high pitched whine fills the room as the available space suddenly shrinks down to next to nothing. Two immense skulls with blindingly bright light filling their gaping maws face away from Sans, whose eye socket is now filled with the same light.

“Back off,” he says as calmly as though nothing had happened.

Averia scoffs. “You wouldn’t dare. Those things go off you’ll hit everybody else too.”

“You willin’ to bet on that?”

“I watched him make those. I watched the tests Mary ran, watched them fiddle with the damn things for weeks. I know exactly what they can do. Now tell me where he is,” Averia demands.

“Nah,” Sans says.

“I’ll tear y-!”

“This has gone on for long enough!” Asgore roars. “Averia, Sans, put down your weapons immediately or I shall use force!”

“But he knows where Gaster is!” Averia cries.

“You are no more certain of that than I. This is more than a simple case of disappearance. Do not force my hand.”

A second later the bones vanish, followed shortly by the skulls.

“Good. Sans, I must ask you again; you truly have no clue as to the whereabouts of Doctor Gaster?” Asgore asks.

“No. Can we go now?” Sans asks, eyeing Averia.

“You may.”

Averia makes a strangled noise. “Asgore you can’t-”

“If he says he does not know, then he does not know. We can launch an investigation once we have handled the matter of the rogue monster.”

“Wh- You can’t be serious?”

“I am. The entirety of monsterkind is being threatened. We must focus our efforts there,” Asgore says. “Undyne, Alphys, come. When you have calmed down it would greatly please me if you joined us, Averia.”

With that he follows Sans and Papyrus out the door. Alphys and Undyne hurry after him, leaving only Ferrin and Averia in the room. Deciding she’d really rather not deal with the angry skeleton Ferrin hurries after them.

  


\-------------------

  


Back at the skeleton brothers home Ferrin discovers that they’re both in their respective rooms already. When she gets no response from either of them she finds herself on the couch with nothing to do. The television provides a welcome distraction for only a short time before she’s once again up and pacing the room.

Questions that she doesn’t have the answers to keep presenting themselves. There’s just too much she doesn’t know and there’s also nothing she can do about it. Hours pass by as she tries to distract herself.

As she sits heavily onto the sofa for what feels like the millionth time, she notices an annoying static sound. Looking up reveals that the television programs have evidently ended for the evening. Glancing up at the clock reveals it to be only a few minutes past seven at night. That seemed odd, but then again maybe that was normal down here.

She looked away to grab the remote, figuring she could at least get rid of the noise, and the sound abruptly stops, replaced by the sounds of another Mettaton show. The screen has gone entirely black, white words written across its surface.

**Hello again Ferrin.**

“What the…? Gaster?” Ferrin gasps.

The words disappear, replaced by new ones. **Yes. Do be quiet or Sans will break the television.**

Not entirely sure that she shouldn’t call one of the brothers over, Ferrin hesitates. As she does a new set of words appear.

**You do want to rescue your sibling, right?**

“Yes,” she whispers cautiously.

 **Then listen to me. I cannot help you as I am now. You need to find some things for me** _._

Ferrin hesitates before asking, “What kind of things?”

**When I died my soul broke. Due to unfortunate circumstances, others took those pieces to lengthen their own existence. There are five pieces available to you. Find these and I return your sibling.**

“How do I know you’ll do it if I do?”

**I can give you nothing but my word. Know that I do not want Flowey in possession of such a powerful soul any more than you want your sibling gone.**

Ferrin chews her lip, staring at the screen. The offer is fishy to say the least. But… she doesn’t have any other choice, does she?

“I’ll do it. But if you don’t bring them back I swear I’ll make you regret this.”

**Good. You’ll need to follow my instructions to the letter. The closest of the shards lies in Waterfall.  In five minutes, leave the house and hide on the side of the shed facing this house. Count to twenty two, then make your way behind the shed and stay there. When Sans leaves you’ll know what to do.**

“Wait that doesn’t-” Ferrin protests, cutting herself off as the television screen reverts to normal.

Doubts race through her mind as she sits there, but exactly five minutes later she finds herself standing in front of the door. Slowly easing it open she reasons that she can see what Gaster was talking about and then decide. She quietly trudges through the snow, coming to a halt hidden behind the shed as she shivers slightly. She’s just hit twenty when she hears the sound of footsteps coming from the direction of the house. She nearly bolts for the back of the shed but finishes her count before silently walking to the next spot. As she stops moving the sound of Sans arriving via teleportation comes from the front of the shed. Ferrin freezes, listening as the approaching footsteps come to a halt what could only be a few feet from Sans.

“Thought you’d be here,” Sans says.

“You can’t stop me,” Averia responds.

“I could. But I’m not gonna.”

“I doubt it. Why are you here, kid?”

“To warn ya that you’re makin’ a mistake. Whoever the Gaster ya knew was doesn’t exist anymore.”

“We all changed after the war. I still recognize Asgore and Grillby.”

“Would the G ya knew have broken the rules and used some poor sap’s skeleton to make a kid? Two kids?”

Averia’s response is either silent or nonexistent.

“That’s what I thought. Would he have used other monsters as experiment subjects? Would he have built a machine to send energy to the entire underground that was just as, if not more likely to create an explosion that would’ve killed everybody? What about experimenting with kid’s souls, eh?”

“If he had to,” Averia says heavily. “I can’t really judge him for making the hard choices, kid.”

“He didn’t have to. He chose to.”

“I…. I can’t just give up on him.”

Sans stays quiet for a few long moments. “I know that look. You’re not gonna give up, are ya?”

“No.”

“Why does it matter so much?”

Averia doesn’t respond, and after a second Sans laughs flatly. “Heh, guess it’s none of my business.”

“He’s my brother.”

Now it’s Sans who’s shocked into silence.

“Guess he never told you. He probably thought I died like I should have. But that’s not important. You want to know why it matters so much, that’s why. You wouldn’t give up on Papyrus. Ferrin won’t give up on her sibling. I won’t give up on mine.”

“You’re serious? You’re really…?”

“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to be family or whatever, I just wanted you to understand why I’ve gotta find him.”

Yet more silence. It stretches on as Ferrin shivers and resists the urge to stomp her feet to try to warm them up.

“I won’t stop ya then. But I think you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Heh. I get that.”

More footsteps crunch through the snow, headed towards Waterfall. Just before the popping sound signaling Sans has left, Ferrin hears him mutter something that sounds an awful lot like ‘shituation, eh?’

Left alone out in the snow, she knows exactly what Gaster had meant. He wants her to team up with Averia to bring him back. But… after what Sans had said, was it really in anyone’s best interest to do that?

Ferrin squares her shoulders and starts walking the way Averia had gone. Even if it’ll only lead to trouble, there’s nothing she can do to stop it. Averia’s made it pretty clear that she won’t give up and Gaster’s made it pretty clear he can contact anyone at any time he wants to. If Ferrin disobeys his orders now he might come back and not rescue you. That’s not an option.

  


\-------------------------

  
  


You’d thought death would be a bit more peaceful than this, you think as you fend off another questing tendril.

The second Flowey had absorbed your soul you’d known he wasn’t planning to let your friends go free. He’d already been moving towards the exit, reaching towards your soul to take power from it. Anger coursing through you, you’d refused his advance and the questing reach flinched back like you’d burnt it. You’d then felt Flowey’s anger as he was unable to use you, more tendrils attacking just to get burnt.

A few dozen attempts later, Flowey had taken a break. You discovered that you couldn’t actually see through his eyes nor feel what he felt, but you could get a vague idea of his thoughts. He had apparently decided it wasn’t worth fighting you where other people could find him and moved somewhere he was confident they’d never find him after shrinking to his original form.

As he made his way through the underground you realize that even though his presence is nearly overwhelming there are others there too. They’re incredibly faint even when you focus, and it doesn’t take long to realize that they must be the other souls. The other human souls! You stifle the flood of excitement and freeze, hoping Flowey hadn’t noticed. When he doesn’t stop you reach for your magic. It’s just barely there, but maybe it will be enough…

You reach out towards the closest one and brush up against something that feels overly hot and static filled. You send it a tentative greeting, cursing when it doesn’t respond.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Flowey scolds, “You shouldn’t curse around children.”  
You don’t have the time to process that before something’s twining it’s way around your soul. It’s burning hot and hateful, strangling your soul and sending pain shooting through the core of your being. Flowey just watches with malicious joy as you’re drawn in, what sense you do have of yourself fading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody figure out the meaning of the title?
> 
> Don't worry, Reader isn't out of the game yet! But it would appear that Ferrin is stepping up to to bat...
> 
> For anyone a little bit weirded out by the fact that Sans is about two hundred years old - in MIR canon most monsters live for upwards of six hundred years. They tend to judge age based on behavior and mentality instead of years because of that. The ages from waaay back in chapter two are essentially how old they feel/act/think. So Sans might be physically super old but monsters would see him as someone in his mid-twenties.
> 
> Anywho, quick question: I've got a couple of side projects that 1) delve into who Gaster was when he and Averia knew each other, 2) who his wife was (yes, she is an OC by the name of Mary, she's been mentioned a few times before)/how they met, and 3) who Averia was and her very early life as a skeleton monster. I plan on finishing all three at some point but would love it if I could get some input from you guys! You can also vote for option 4 if you'd prefer I just focus on this story. The poll will be up for about a week, looking forward to seeing the results! If you'd like to vote, please [click here](http://strawpoll.de/3w7re8f/)! (It's a Straw Poll, it won't take more than a couple of seconds. Vote for as many as you'd like!)


	49. Orange Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello once again! 
> 
> It may interest you to know that construction on the Bank of England began in the early summer of 1732. 
> 
> Beta Reader: [Nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/)
> 
> CHAPTER SPECIFIC TRIGGER WARNINGS IN THE END OF CHAPTER NOTES! Please check those if you think you may need them!

\- Your mum is scolding you for not wanting to put on your nice church dress. You try telling her that it's not church you dislike but the dress, and she scolds you again. Girls wear dresses, she says as she pulls the stupid thing over your head. She smacks you when you pout. -

 

_Memories that aren't yours burn their way into your consciousness. You struggle with renewed strength, trying to escape the soul’s grasp but you can't fight it and-_

 

\- Your first crush is on one of your friends, but she's a girl. You know that's not right, know you are only supposed to like boys but you don't and so you drive her away instead. You wish you could tell her how nice her hair had felt on your fingers before you'd pulled it. -

\- Father and mum shaking their heads over the newspaper, saying something about a Bank of England and the ruin it will cause. You're not old enough to understand, they say.-

 

_Images, feelings, thoughts, you can't- you aren't- you are…. You are……?_

 

\- The front door slams shut behind your mother, and you jump up to follow. Your eldest sister looks up from adjusting her hair to give you a stern reminder. “Do not be out later than supper Dahlia.”

“Yes Molly. Good bye!” you call, racing through the front door on eager feet. The sun is barely risen overhead but already carts rattle their way through the streets alongside you, people shouting their wares from the corners, the smell of fresh baked bread almost strong enough to cover the odors of women throwing the contents of chamber pots onto the streets. Long used to the bustle of town you're sure to avoid the windows and hooves as you make your way further in. Briefly you hide in an unoccupied back alley long enough to strip off your dress to reveal your brother’s outgrown clothes before hurriedly stuffing it into a carefully disguised box. You dash back into the crowd, glad that your mother had recently shorn your head to rid you of lice. With short hair you don't have to worry about hiding it away underneath a hat.

The boys are nearly all there when you arrive. They greet you enthusiastically and the day begins by racing to the edge of town. You arrive out of breath but only just behind George, who claims his rightful place as leader of today's expedition. You're his second him command, which means he can boss you around but you get to boss everybody else around for him so that's okay.

The day blurs past until it's late afternoon. You're hot and dirty from play, relaxing in the shade of the nearby forest, when Ansel speaks.

“Ain't that the cursed mountain?” he asks, pointing up at the peak closest to your group.

“That's Ebbot alright. It ain't cursed though,” another adds.

“My mum said it is,” Ansel argues.

“What, you gonna let some stupid rumor scare you?” you scoff. “My mum said only idiots are afraid of a stupid curse.”

“My mum ain't stupid, and I'm not afraid!” Ansel looks about ready to deck you for the words before George stops him.

“If both of you ain't scared then prove it,” he challenges.

“How’re we gonna do that?” you ask.

“By climbing up, of course.” The other boys nod in agreement, eager to see you fail.

You and Ansel share a nervous glance - despite your words neither of you are at all eager to brave the mountain. But before either of you can object, George is speaking again.

“Whoever climbs to the top of the mountain first gets to be second in command forever!” George declares. Again the others shout their agreement, eyes shining with excitement. You notice that none of them volunteer to climb up.

You're still scrambling to find an excuse when Ansel says, “But George, I don't wanna climb it!”

George laughs. “What are you, a girl? What about you Dane, are you a girl too?”

“I am not!” you shout, balling your fists in anger.

“So prove it!”

“Fine, I will! I'm gonna climb that mountain tomorrow morning and you all can come watch!”

 

You're already regretting your words as you slip back into your dress. You don't believe in superstition! But… it is still scary. Your mother notices your lack of appetite at supper, asking if you've fallen ill. You don't get much sleep that night either, but by the time your mother leaves in the morning you're prepared. Water, bread and cheese for lunch, your favorite bandana and your lucky rock are all stored safely underneath your dress as you leave the room you share with your siblings.

“Dahlia,” Molly calls as you go to leave, “Take these, won't you? It's getting cold out and if you are falling ill it would be best to keep warm.”

You accept the offered gloves, slipping them on to appease her before leaving. Your adventuring supplies slung over your shoulder and dress successfully hidden, you march to the meeting place.

  


\-------------

  


One lunch and much fumbling later you're beginning to wonder if the curse on the mountain is just that it can't be climbed. You feel like you've been up here for days, but the sun hasn't gone down even once! Sure it's a bit past being directly overhead but it should be further than that, right?

You decide to take another break, sitting down under a nearby tree. Your feet and legs hurt from the climb, your trousers torn by brambles. You're also miserable and scared, being alone by yourself. Your throat becomes tight and scratchy, your nose running already as the first few droplets fall from your eyes. Before long you're bawling loudly.

You want to go home! You want your feet to stop hurting, you want your mum there to make it all better! Wallowing in self pity, you don't notice the approaching footsteps until they're nearly on top of you. You look up through blurry eyes, barely catching a glimpse of something white and black before there's a crushing pain in your head and you're out.

 

\---------------

 

You wake up to a violent headache, the scent of flowers mixing with freshly washed sheets and baking, your bandana clinging to your face wetly. You barely register this before you're drug back under.

The next time you wake the room is dark and your headache has subsided somewhat. There is someone sitting across from you, a very pale someone in a purple dress and… a strange, horned hat? You blink your eyes clear, straining to see before balking. That's no hat, and that is not a person! The thing in the chair is clearly some breed of monster, covered in horrible fur, horns poking out from its scalp. You gasp before flinging a hand over your mouth in fear. The thing doesn't stir.

Slowly and carefully you slide out from under the blankets and creep out the open door. You frantically look around for an exit and find a door leading out of the house. Just as you open it, you hear voices from outside.

“Did you hear?

“No, what happened? Surely Asgore hasn't come?”

“No, no. Another human fell.”

“My gods, someone killed it, right?”

“I hope so. Toriel got to the damn thing first, but it looked pretty dead when she was carrying it.”

“Surely even she wouldn't be so foolish as to spare it? Not after the last one did so much harm?”

“I'd certainly hope so. Keep an eye out. If we see it…”

“Absolutely. I'll set up some guards here to make sure it can't get out, if, you know…”

You back away from the door, barely daring to breathe. These things are going to kill you! Oh god what if they come inside?!

You spin around, taking in the house frantically. One hallway leads back to the monster, another smells of food and must lead to the kitchen, and a third exit leads downstairs.

You take the doorway that smells of food only to find that the kitchen lacks a back door. You hurry back to the other room and halt. The stairs down could only lead to a root cellar but your only other choice is to go back to the monster and that isn't an option. At that moment, you hear muffled speech from the room where it was sleeping.

You make your decision, hurling yourself down the stairs as fast as you can go. You race through the hallway, looking for somewhere to hide as you hear calling from above. Your flight ends at a doorway that looms far above your head. Staring up at the doors in dismay, you hear the sound of feet pounding through the passage behind you.

In desperation you push on the door and by some miracle it moves. You brace your shoulder against it as you hear the footsteps round the nearest corner, a high pitched voice calling for you to stop, but the monster is too late. You slip through the crack that you’d opened and run as fast as your feet will take you through the cold beyond the doorway. Your feet slip on the icy ground but you press onward. Before long you realize that the sounds that had been following you are gone. When you spare a glance back you find nothing is chasing you.

You stumble to a stop, panting heavily. Was it really gone? You strain to catch any kind of sound, but can’t hear anything out of place. As the information finally registers your knees give out from under you and you only just barely manage to take some of the impact on your arms. Fear gone you’re forcibly reminded of the headache that had only been worsened by your flight. Your entire body feels achy and feverish, your vision swimming with black dots. You’re almost convinced to move just from the cold, but the longer you lay there the less you can feel it. Hadn’t mum said something about that once…? You can’t…. rem….emb….er….

 

\---------------

 

This time you wake up pressed into warm fur. Low voices speak above you using words you can’t comprehend. The air around you feels strange - you register that it is dry and warm but your body doesn’t seem to take note as it shivers violently. You can feel unconsciousness on the edge of your mind and accept it gratefully to escape the pain in your fingers, your ears, your head.

You wake up again. This time there’s a commanding voice rising above the other two, words a bit clearer this time.

“.... but we are fortunate no one was hurt this time. I and monsterkind thank you,” the louder voice says.

A higher pitched voice says, “It is our duty. We would-”

“-Not wish for anyone else to lose one or both of their parents-” a second, slightly deeper voice adds.

“-As I did. Do you have the second soul container?”

“I do. All that is left is the deed itself.”

For a long moment no one speaks. The tension in the air is thick enough that even in your dazed state you can recognize it.

“Asgore, I can-” the higher voice suggests.

“No. I thank you, but no. Stand outside. I will call you when it is done,” Asgore says.

With a short bow, both of them leave you alone with the monster. You’re too tired to move, your head pounding and your body near useless, as riddled with pain as it is. You must have vocalized your pain, as the remaining monster makes a startled noise.

“W-why hello, human,” it says uncertainly.

You try to speak but heave instead, acid stinging your throat and nose. Once your stomach is empty you can’t do anything but curl up in a ball and feel tears making their way down your face. The monster doesn’t move until you let out a weak sob. You feel large furred hands picking you up gently and moving you, a slow and steady bob as it walks. You’d fall unconscious again but it feels like it’s just barely out of reach.

It comes to a stop eventually, but your eyes aren’t quite working right yet and opening them hurts, so you don’t try to. You notice the smell of old stone and dust. The monster settles down and puts you in what you imagine must be its lap. One hand gently rubs your back.

“I… You cannot speak, can you?” it asks.

You make a small noise that echoes horribly in your skull.

“I thought as much… You are… severely wounded, child. But do not worry. I will be… making the pain go away, soon. Does-” - the monster makes a funny noise here - “Does that sound nice?”

It does. You hurt so much.

“I thought so. Would you like to know where we are?” It doesn’t wait for a response, continuing. “It is a very beautiful garden. There are pretty yellow flowers. My child loved these flowers, you know. They would speak of them often and with great fondness. They are… not here, at the moment, but perhaps… perhaps you will see them soon. I think… I think that the two of you would get along magnificently. And my wife - she is also not here, but I do so hope that she returns soon - she could bake us a butterscotch pie to share, and scold us for sneaking seconds. My son would love to be your friend too. He had so few of those. My people were, I think, a bit intimidated by his being a prince.”

It sounds so lonely and wistful, speaking of the past. It - he? - falls silent for a long time, so long that you’re almost afraid he has gone to sleep. He promised to make you feel better. You want to feel better.

“But first, I must ease your pain,” he says finally. “Just… two questions, child. Can you move your fingers for me so that I may know your answer?”

You concentrate and find that you can’t feel your fingers, but you can twitch your wrist if you really concentrate.

“Ah,” he says in a pained voice. “That is fine as well. My sentries tell me that there was a name embroidered on your bandana. Your name, child, is it Dahlia?”

Your hand twitches.

“Well then, Dahlia… How old- Oh. My mistake. Are you eight?”

Your hand remains immobile.

“Seven?”

You wish you could speak and tell him.

“Perhaps… nine?”

Finally your hand twitches.

“Ah,” he says again, in that same painful tone. “That is…. good to know. Now, are you ready little one?”

You move your hand again, anticipating the relief you’re about to feel. The monster pauses for entirely longer than you consider necessary, prompting another impatient twitch. There’s a brief pain in your chest before you’re finally, blessedly, pain free. But… you don’t feel much else either.

Suddenly there’s a feeling of being cradled, a deep sadness just on the other side of a barrier you can’t breach. You’re held for a long time, the occasional droplet of hot water sliding down your skin… Except it doesn’t quite feel right.

And then, nothing. It's almost like sleeping, but when you wake up there's nothing there either. Just a lot of dark and boredom.

With nothing else to do, you think about what the man had said - the king, you realize, if his son was a prince. His wife sounded nice, if she was going to bake you sweets. You don’t much care for flowers but you bet the kids he’d mentioned would like playing too. Maybe they’d even let you be captain sometimes. You’d never managed to beat George, with his two extra years and many extra inches, so you’d never got to try but it had always looked fun. Or you could be the knights protecting a real live prince!

Yeah. That would be nice.

And you’ll have that.

As soon as you wake up.

  
  


It's a long time - or you think it is, it's hard to tell when nothing happens - before you realize that something is very wrong.

You aren't waking up. There are no voices, no sweets, no other children to play with. Just you alone in the dark.

The realization leads to blinding fear, choking your screams and pleading. You think you'd cry if you could but you can't so you don't.

No one responds. You're pretty sure that they can't hear you, and for that matter you're not even sure if you can hear you. You don't think you feel your mouth moving.

When the pleading does nothing, you get angry. You rage against the monsters, the cruel god who had let this happen, the children who had dared you to come up here. You say all of the bad words that you know, then some you made up.

But the anger only lasts so long. When it's gone, your useless rage spent against the uncaring darkness you live in, you're left with nothing. You can't muster up any emotion. Nothing you'd done had produced results. No one was listening. You were stuck. Forever.

  
  
  
  


Or so you'd thought. An eternity passes but finally something happens. Something malicious and creeping crawls onto you, consuming you, and its hate sparks memories of your own. The apathy burns away in the fire of this new emotion and it's been so long since you've felt anything. You feed the flames higher and higher. Your mother and her dresses, your siblings and having to care for the ungrateful brats, those boys and their stupid dares, the monsters and their lies. You hate them. You **_hate_ ** them.

You've never done anything wrong! They deserve to be punished, not you! In fact everyone should be punished! Why should you suffer alone? Let them get a taste, a fraction of what you've had to experience.

When you sense something that isn't the thing that had brought you back to life, you wait. Patiently you sense it move closer, closer…

It struggles as you pull it in but you're stronger, you always have been, and you'll show it your pain, you'll make it writhe in agony, it doesn't deserve happiness-

 

**_WHY DID YOU GET TO LIVE WHEN I HAD TO DIE?_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Trigger Warnings: Major society taught and internalized trans/homophobia, child death, child injury, severe head injury, vomiting, mentions of previous killings, minor bullying, misogyny.
> 
> A couple of things; yes, Dahlia is intended to be trans, and no, they don't know that. I've chosen to use they when referring to them because of the complications with their gender identity - while they would have used female pronouns and been labeled as female, Dahlia was transgender and if they'd had the option and knowledge about their identity would have chosen to transition. I do have them fleshed out so if anyone has any questions I'll hopefully one day get to answering them.
> 
> For anyone curious, yes, Reader does still have a major part to play. While Ferrin is also playing an important role Reader is performing one just as if not more important. What that role is everyone will just have to wait to see.
> 
> If you're wondering why this chapter took so long - I've finally gotten medication and a therapist to help with my anxiety and depression, but the first medicine we tried I reacted very poorly to. I'm fine now, so no need to worry. Various other things have been happening, but the main cause was mental health stuff that hopefully won't be coming up again (crossing my fingers...).


	50. Gaster Follower One, Or The Author Really Can't Believe She Reached 50 Chapters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry about the delay! This chapter has been written for quite a while but my beta's had a difficult month so she hasn't been able to get to it. I've decided to post it without her input since she's overwhelmed at the moment, so please forgive any silly errors on my part!

Luckily for Ferrin’s stealth mission, the snow is relatively hard packed. The real difficulty comes from the little pebbles and wet spots scattered throughout Waterfall. She ends up creating an unfortunate amount of noise but somehow Averia doesn't notice, possibly due to the assorted noises coming from the Echo flowers and other monsters moving through Waterfall. Ferrin wishes she could take a moment to appreciate her surroundings but her target keeps walking and so does she.

As she follows through a dark, narrow hallway she loses sight of Averia and by the time she gets out there's no sight of the skeleton.

Ferrin mutters a curse under her breath as she looks around. There are three exits to the room and no sign of recent passage through any of them. “How am I going to find her now?”

“Turning around might help.”

Ferrin jumps about a foot before spinning around to find Averia standing behind her. She looks unamused, arms crossed and tail swishing impatiently.

“Oh! Uh, hi?” Ferrin says meekly.

“You haven't been following me since Snowdin to say hi. What do you want?”

“I just… Gaster told me to,” Ferrin confesses.

“He contacted you again?” Averia asks sharply.

“Yeah, back at the house,” Ferrin says, quickly explaining the instructions she'd been given.

Averia considers her words for a long time, tapping her claws again her forearm. “That doesn't make sense. Monster’s souls don't linger after they die… or at least they're not supposed to. And if he doesn't have his soul then how is he still around?”

Ferrin chimes in despite the question being rhetorical. “Is there a way for people to stick around even without their souls? Or, I don't know, some part of the soul that can be separated?”

“No, that's-” Averia cuts herself off, brow wrinkling in concentration. She waves Ferrin’s questions off as she thinks. “I don't remember much, but I think Gaster and Mary were working on a theory about something like that. Something about how there might be three parts?”

After a few more seconds she sighs, shaking her head. “I don't remember, but look. I'm not interested in working with a human brat. I'm going to go find out what happened to my brother, so how about you head home so I can stop playing babysitter.”

“No can do. If you're not going to help me then I'll do it myself,” Ferrin says cheerfully. With that she turns to study the available paths, ignoring Averia’s objections.

“Eenie, Meenie, Miny, Mo,” Ferrin hums, thinking.

_That one._

“What the-?!” Ferrin yelps, spinning to catch sight of the speaker. Averia, now looking both startled and irritated, is the only other person in the room, but that certainly hadn't been her voice.

_Turn around. Leftmost path._

“Who are you? Where are you?” Ferrin asks, but this time the voice remains silent.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Averia demands.

After a few seconds pause, Ferrin says, “Nothing. Thought I heard something.”

“Bullsh- Where are you going?”

“I think this is the right way,” Ferrin calls, walking in the direction indicated by the voice. Behind her Averia watches her walk off suspiciously before cursing and hurrying to catch up.

“Oh, hi!” Ferrin says brightly. “Weren't you going to go do your own thing?”

“Are you a complete moron? There’s a murderer on the loose, and he definitely wants your soul. Turn around and go back,” Averia demands.

“Nah,” Ferrin says cheerfully.

_Right._

Averia shortly gives up on arguing, and the two of them continue in silence. Ferrin privately thinks that the other woman is following her more for a lack of other leads than duty, but she keeps her options to herself, much like their invisible GPS.

They eventually arrive at a dead end, and Ferrin's guide is suddenly silent. The only way forward is off of the pier stretching before them, and the area is unoccupied by anyone but the two of them. Ferrin can see the water cut off not far from the end of the wooden planks, and from the sound of rushing water assumes that the water must be a good deal deeper and swifter than it looks.

“A dead end,” Averia says flatly.

“Maybe not?” Ferrin suggests hopefully, but she’s struggling to find the reason that the voice had brought them there too.

“This was a waste of my damn time. Come on, brat,” she says, grabbing Ferrin by the forearm and pulling her along, “I’m taking you back.”

“If you do that I’ll just follow you again!” Ferrin protests, struggling.

“Then I’ll make sure you-”

“Have you ever thought about a world…” Both of them fall silent as a voice begins to speak, at once flat and glitching, jumping from one octave to the other with no rhyme or reason. “Where everything is exactly the same… Except you don’t exist?”

White fog rolls up from the edges of the walkway, winding its clammy way up their legs and torsos. They turn to find a small grey monster staring back at them with wide, blank eyes. They almost look like the little lizard kid who runs around Snowdin if he was leached of all color.

“Everything functions perfectly without you…” The grey face glitches, boxes in every shade of grey covering it briefly as they laugh hollowly. “Ha, ha. The thought terrifies me.”

The fog rushes up to block Ferrin's vision entirely. Averia appears to be experiencing the same thing, cussing loudly before suddenly breaking off.

“A-Averia?” Ferrin calls. “You there?”

A groan responds to her voice, the sounds of someone moving on stone coming from just in front of her.

“Hello?” she calls again, uncertain.

“Ferrin? Is that you?”

The world freezes, those four words spoken in a voice she'd been afraid she'd never hear again. As Ferrin stands there like a statue your form appears in the fog. You approach and she can see that you look confused, watching your surroundings like you don't know where you are.

You finally catch sight of her, face slowly melting into a disbelieving smile. “Ferrin? Is that… really you?”

The ice finally cracks, Ferrin staggering forward, sobbing, into your arms. You smell and feel just like she remembers, crying and holding her tightly. She can scarcely believe that you're here, that you're safe and alive.

Finally she pulls back just far enough to see your face. “How are you…?”

“I escaped. Flowey healed me right after you guys left and took me wherever we are and then disappeared,” you say, glancing around worriedly.

“We're in Waterfall,” Ferrin supplies.

“Good, good… Where are Sans and Papyrus? Didn't they come with you?”

“No, Sans is… not so great, and I don't think he'd approve of taking a risk like this. I didn't even think to bring Pap along though… I hope he won't mind.”

“I’m sure he- Did you hear that?” you ask, pulling her behind you.

“No?”

“Shhh. It might be Flowey,” you whisper.

Ferrin shudders, remembering the Eldritch abomination that the small flower had become.

“Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here,” you whisper, pulling on her arm. The two of you edge slowly away from the source of the sound, listening with bated breath. A few feet later you pause and listen.

“I'm going to go ahead and make sure I can't hear him,” you whisper.

“No! I'm coming with you,” she whispers back.

“I can't hear him if you're walking too. I'll be right back,” you insist, turning away.

She grabs your arm. “Just be careful okay? I don't… I can't lose you again.”

You nod, and she releases you to let you scout ahead.

It's silent for only a few moments more before your scream pierces the fog. Ferrin begins to sprint forward, calling your name, and trips as something holds her back. It feels like her entire body is weakly resisting her, but looking back she finds only a single green vine wrapped around her ankle. She kicks it off and scrambles to her feet, running forward as she screams for you.

She can't see through the fog, can only follow the sound of your struggles as she sprints blindly. The fog clears abruptly but she ignores it in favor of listening for the sounds that have disappeared. All of the sudden her foot finds empty air instead of solid stone and she's tipping forward, trying fruitlessly to reel back when thin, hard fingers wrap themselves around her wrist and pull her away from the precipice.

“Ferrin, are you unharmed?” her rescuer asks.

She can't quite figure out what's going on, blinking like the abruptly dissolved mist has taken residence inside of her skull. The hand holding her wrist belongs to Papyrus, who is looking at her with concern, his other hand holding onto something bright, pearlescent, and irregularly shaped. He looks askance, and Ferrin remembers that he’d asked a question.

“I… I’m...  I’ll be alright,” she says hollowly. “Where’s Averia?”

“I ran into her - quite literally! - just before I discovered that strange monster. Are you sure you are quite alright?” he asks again. He gestures to his right, where Ferrin finds Averia looking as dazed as she feels.

“What happened to that monster?” Ferrin asks, dodging the question.

“They… are gone, I believe,” Papyrus says, frowning. “I spoke to them only briefly before they gave me this and disappeared.”

“Is that what I think it is?” Ferrin asks hesitantly.

“If you are thinking that it is a piece of soul, then absolutely! If you were thinking that it is, say, a rather luminescent slice of cheese, then I feel obliged to inform you that it is, in fact, part of a monster’s soul.”

“Is it Gaster’s?”

“I cannot quite tell,” Papyrus confesses. “While it may not be cheese, it is certainly not like any kind of soul I have seen. I can get only vague impressions and parts of memory from it.”

“Let me see it,” Averia says suddenly.

“Absolutely not!” Ferrin says. “I have to be the one to put the soul together or Gaster might not bring my sib back!”

“You don’t even know that it’s his,” Averia points out, studying the soul. “It could be a fake.”

“She does have a point. For all of my other knowledge I am sorely lacking in information regarding my father,” Papyrus says.

“I don’t know… But you did find it, and you saved us, so I think it’s up to you Paps,” Ferrin says, deciding her brain is too scrambled to be able to make a rational decision.

“Ah,” Papyrus says, nodding. “A wise choice, leaving the decision to the great Papyrus! And in that case, please feel free, Averia.”

He holds out the shard for her to take, which she does with surprisingly gentle claws. Cradled in her hands it shines brighter for a moment, and Averia runs a thumb over the surface before closing her eyes. Her hands glow violet, and in the light provided by the soul parts are even a dull grey. After a few moments her eye sockets slide open.

“It’s him,” she says softly, staring down at the soul sadly. It’s the most vulnerable Ferrin’s ever seen her, and it’s suddenly apparent just how exhausted she is. The look is gone in an instant as she notices the other two observing her. Averia pulls the soul close defensively, glaring them down.

“Woah, we’re not gonna do anything,” Ferrin says, holding her hands up.

“Would you perhaps like to keep the soul shards until we have found all of them?” Papyrus offers.

“What?!” Ferrin shrieks.

“What? It is not a bad idea,” Papyrus says.

“W- But she could decide to just put it together herself!”

“Except she does not know where the rest are, and Gaster contacted you, not her. Surely we can trust you, aunt?” Papyrus says.

Averia seems as shocked as Ferrin, freezing but for her jaw, which drops open. Ferrin tries to ignore how wrong it looks to be able to see through it. As Averia stutters, Papyrus looks askance at her.

“Is something wrong?” he asks.

“No- I mean- You- I’m not-” Averia stammers.

“Were you lying when you claimed Gaster as your brother?”

“Well no, but that doesn’t mean…” Averia trails off weakly.

“Is that not how this works? The sister of my father ought to be my aunt, right?” Papyrus asks, confused.

“I’m not your aunt,” Averia insists.

“But my father-”

“I haven’t seen him in hundreds of years! Do you think he never told you about me because he wanted me to be your aunt?” Averia scoffs.

“I do not think that is how this works. Is it?” he asks Ferrin.

“I don’t know how monsters do this, sorry,” Ferrin says.

“Point is, I’m not your aunt. I’ll be holding on to the pieces though,” Averia says decisively, already walking away. “I’m going to put this somewhere safe, if you figure out where the next one is then you know where I’ll be.”

Papyrus watches her go with what Ferrin thinks might be a sad expression, but he turns back to her with a grin as cheerful as ever. “Well, that is that! Do you perhaps have any more clues?”

“Nothing,” Ferrin confesses. Her mental guide is silent too, and if their voice was any indicator they must be pretty tired. She doubts she’ll be hearing from them again tonight. “How about we head back? I’d love something for dinner, I’m starving.”

“But of course!” Papyrus says happily.

As they make their way through Waterfall, Ferrin asks, “So how’d you know where we were anyway?”

Papyrus fidgets with his gloves nervously, clearing the throat he doesn’t have before saying, “I might - and this is only a slight possibility, mind you - have perhaps heard you leave the house and followed you once my brother went back inside?”

“Ah, got it. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“The great Papyrus would never compromise a stealth mission!”

 

\-------------------

 

Alone in the front room that night, she whispers, “Can you hear me?”

_Yeah._

“You're quieter than before.”

_Tired._

“You used up a lot of energy trying to stop them, huh?”

No words this time, just a brief flash of surprise.

“Yeah, we could hear you. Hard not to when you were yelling like that.”

They don't respond, but Ferrin can feel the same deeply rooted sorrow that is bogging down her own soul. Whoever this is they must have cared for her sibling.

“Can I help you somehow?”

 _No,_ they think insistently.

“Oh. Okay. Do you have a name?”

_…. Chara._

“Nice to officially meet you, Chara. I'm Ferrin, by the way.”

Surprise and something small, warm and hopeful that's quickly overwhelmed by a wave of exhaustion.

“Woah, you weren't kidding. Maybe you should get some sleep?”

Dim acknowledgment, and Ferrin can't feel them anymore. She doesn't recognize the name, doesn't know their connection to her sibling, but they'd helped her find the first piece of soul, so as far as she's concerned they're an ally. Besides, they seemed to miss them just like she does.

And miss you she does. It's like a gaping hole in her life that she can't fill. She knows you're not a few rooms away writing late into the night, knows you won't wander into the kitchen glaring at the sunlight like it's personally offended you next morning. Unlike any other time in her life she can't depend on you to pick up your phone if she needs help. She's always needed your help, needed her older sibling to be her friend and guide, but now….

The next morning she's just glad that skeletons don't recognize the signs of a human that's been up all night crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I really can't believe I've written fifty chapters. Actually, I really can't believe you all have stuck with me for fifty chapters! Seriously though, thank you. Without all of you the story never would have gotten this far in the first place. Next chapter will hopefully be done soon, but no guarantees since next week is finals week and I've got to get a 92% or higher on this math test to keep my A. 
> 
> Also if any of you wouldn't mind could you send some nice asks to my beta? You can find her at [Nozomistarotcards](http://nozomistarotcards.tumblr.com/) (that's a link, by the way) and if it's no trouble I think she could really use those right now. Thank you so much!


	51. Indigo Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanation for the lateness of this chapter is gonna be in the end notes
> 
> The person who was beta-in this lives a busy life and tbh I feel bad asking her to beta any more so the rest of these may well be unbeta-ed, sorry guys
> 
> Oh, and trigger warnings are down in the notes too, if you've got some you think will be affected by this please be careful and check those out first, alright?

_You’re violently pulled from the memories flooding through you, left disoriented and sick. You’re still pulling the memories that are yours from Dahlia’s when you’re attacked. Flowey throws himself into the fight, pushing against your weakened defences, but he’s nowhere near strong enough. Your magical shield holds._

_But that’s not enough to stop him either. He just laughs. “You idiot!”_

_The next attack drives you towards another presence, this one overwhelming in its fear and guilt. No! You’re still reeling, you haven’t had time to process, you just need a minute-_

_You’re drawn into the soul’s aura before you’ve had the chance to really resist._

  
Your entire life is dedicated to dance. Your earliest memory is your tutor showing you how to put on your ballet shoes, followed closely by your father telling you men don’t cry when you slip and fall on the polished wooden floors.

Your parents are wealthy, more than enough so that they can afford to have a son who does not work the fields. You can’t imagine digging your hands into the dirt. Your hands are for writing, for graceful movement, for taking dainty, delicate fingers in your own and pressing them to your lips in greeting. Your ears are for listening to the cues in the music that guide you, your feet for carrying your body through the steps of dance, your eyes for watching the crowd applaud, your mouth for smiles and thanks when you follow each step to perfection.

You learn other things too. Politics, court manners, who is your ally and whose great-great-great grandfather your great-great-great grandfather wronged. You learn to be charming, to be gracious, to present yourself as the ideal child. You meet your fiance, an arranged marriage from before you were even born. She’s pretty enough, you suppose, but she can’t dance and that makes her less than nothing to you.

Your life is good. And like all good things, it comes to an end.

Your last dance is also your best. In hindsight, perhaps it is fitting that you go out at the height of your career instead of bound to a body no longer meeting your expectations. You are playing the part of a young girl and your outfit is brand new, a gift from your grandmother for gaining an apprenticeship to one of the greatest masters of your art.

The dance itself is artwork in motion - your partner demanding and strong, you independent and free. Your body flies across the stage, your character’s sorrows your own as you dance. You end breathless, feet, ankles and calves aching but proud. Your parents are there, congratulating you on a job well done. You grandmother, proud and boastful.

That day you leave for a city two days ride from the only home you’ve ever known. You can’t feel fear, just joy. You are going to live the life you’ve always dreamt of, the life you’ve worked for. You have no false modesty, nor false pride - your dancing is good, great even, but there are others above your skill level. You are determined to match them.

It’s the second day, rain beating a staccato beat upon the carriage when the hoofbeats sound behind you. With a strange twang the horses scream, something large running underneath the carriage wheels as the animals struggle to keep running. You fall to the floor, the breath knocked out of you as the carriage jolts a second time. A horse screams in what can only be its death before a heavy piece of luggage falls from above you and you’re unconscious.

You come to with a raging headache, the side of your head coated in something dried and flaking. You open your eyes to light filtered through what you think must be cloth. Your hands and feet are bound, your body laying on cold, hard ground.

It only takes you a few minutes to realize that you’ve been captured. Based on what the men say when you can hear them, they’ve abducted you for the hefty ransom that they expect your parents to pay them. You’re given bread and water once a day, and the one time you complain your head rings from the blow long enough that you decide never to speak in their presence again. Other than that your captors ignore you. You cry silently and hope that your parents will send the ransom soon.

A few days of this later you’re woken up by shouting.

“They don’t want him.”

“What?!”

“Say they won’t pay the ransom. Boy’s useless.”

The voices move further away, and you move further into denial. Surely your parents could pay the money? Mother always threw it around like it meant nothing, and the house was surely worth a fortune. If nothing else, the antique armor and weaponry would fetch enough if sold that they could pay to release you and then some.

So they could pay…. They had chosen not to.

You don’t remember much after that. Not long after their conversation you’re hauled up onto a horse, and a rather short but incredibly bumpy ride ensues. Before long you’re shoved off, sent rolling into a tree that knocks the wind out of you. Moments later you’re hauled to your feet and you find that the blindfold has slipped just enough that you catch a glimpse of your captor before he presses a knife to your throat. You can’t think, can barely breathe, can’t do anything but pray that it’ll be quick when the sound of feet on leaves comes from behind you just before the grip on your arms is gone entirely.

You fall to the ground, your bonds breaking on impact, opening your eyes just in time to see the man’s head hit the earth, a bloodied body not far behind it. Standing not ten feet from you is what must be a servant of the devil himself. It is a skeleton, at least twice your height, maybe more if you included the horns. The thing is barely dressed in torn, worn out clothing, a wicked looking purple blade in one clawed hand.

As its serrated teeth part to deliver your final words, you finally find it in yourself to move. With a single movement you twist around and leap to your feet. As you sprint away on legs well trained through dance, you hear cursing behind you, and the sound of pursuit.

Your feet barely touch the ground before they’re airborne again, your breath ragged, blood rushing deafeningly in your ears. White hands dart out of the foliage in front of you and you twist around them, darting past as another skeleton comes out of the underbrush. It falls out of sight behind you as you dodge around another tree, feet sliding in wet leaves before you gain purchase once more. You’re flying, your surroundings unimportant as you flee the demons chasing you.

It’s not enough. You can just barely hear the crashing behind you growing ever closer, your breathing growing more ragged, your feet slipping more and more often. You’re growing slower.

You burst into a clearing and immediately throw yourself to the side. A hulking something is blocking your way, part lion, part woman, and part eagle, a horrifying amalgamate not meant to exist in nature. Luckily it’s standing to the left so you flee to the right. As you do so, a shining black thing shoots out of the trees and into your path. The skeletons launch themselves out of the treeline just as you stumble to a halt.

The sound of your panting fills the air. None of the things speak, moving to block your path. You take a step back, glancing over your shoulder. Behind you is a pit, too dark and deep to see the bottom of.

Yet when the horned demon you first met steps forward, you have no choice but to back up. Slowly but surely the things force you back, and it isn’t long before you know that another step will send you crashing into the abyss.

You look up to find their faces impassive, uncaring, but you open your mouth anyways because surely there must be something that can save you-

It’s then that the ground underneath your feet falls away. You’re suddenly in freefall, and the sounds of anger that those beasts must surely be making at their lost meal is drowned out by your screaming. The sight of the ground rising up to meet you has you blacking out long before you hit it.

The first thing that you notice when you wake up is that the sun is gone. It’s night time now, the stars only just barely visible from your spot on the ground. You sit up woozily, looking around in the darkness. It’s nearly impossible to see in the cave. All you really know is that there’s an even darker hallway a little ways away, a barely visible… pillar? probably a pillar, and that the walls are smooth and afford no handholds.

You’re still studying the walls when you hear it. The soft scrape of movement over stone is approaching you from behind. You freeze, ice replacing the blood in your veins as the myths come to mind - an army of the undead, shambling, eternal smiles over black sockets, creeping crawling things devouring the souls of children, a towering horror of a monster who ruled with all with an iron fist and a blood red sword.

Before the thing can eat you, devour your soul, your very life, you lash out. Your foot connects with something that makes a stunned croaking noise before something shatters with a sound like glass breaking.

More than that though, you’re shocked when a strange strength fills your body. Your limbs feel just a bit lighter, your body a tiny bit more sturdy.

With this strength, you can face the thing behind you. You spin, ready to face off with the whatever it is, lips parting to deliver a scathing speech-

But all you see is silvery dust. It’s covering your shoes too, the color and glimmer reminding you faintly of the glittery powder that was sometimes worn as a part of the costumes.

Fearful, you edge around the dust pile and make a run for it. It isn’t until you run into the next monster, a large… thing, shaped like a cake and wiggling like the jellies your older brother loved, that you realize where the dust came from. Your shoe carves into the creature like a knife through butter, causing you to stumble and nearly miss the sight of the creature going stock still before shattering just like the last one.

As that same strength fills you once more, you realize that somehow it’s these things, these monsters themselves that are filling you with power. You meet the next one with confidence, barely stopping to watch as it dies before stepping through the dust left behind.

A trail of dust follows behind you as you open the dark set of doors that lead into the snow. There you encounter more monsters, birds of ice, strange deer-like things, others you couldn’t be bothered to remember. Nothing really mattered except the strength growing in your body, the satisfaction of watching your shoes slice through the things that stood in your way, the abominations that you killed. You were an epic hero, on par with Sir Gawain and Beowulf, not only stronger than these things but better, greater, serving what could only be a god with the power they gave you.

The tales of your feats must travel ahead of you because by the time you reach your first monster village everyone is gone. You laugh as you walk through unimpeded. Did they really think that they could escape you?

You are wading through strange, glowing water when you hear it. Frantic shushing, and feet moving over waterlogged ground. You stalk after them, a grand hero tracking his prey like the great hunter Artemis. Before long, they come into view. Two monsters barely taller than you, one blue, red and fish-like, the other slightly taller and covered in feathers. The feathered one notices you first, pushing its companion behind it as it turns to face you. The blue one falls to the ground, staring up at you with wide, watery eyes. The bird thing is trembling, as it should be.

“Undyne, stay behind me!” it shouts, arms spread wide.

“Pathetic,” you sneer, shoe slicing through the stupid bird thing. Behind them the blue fish monster has its eyes closed, flinching back.

But no one had cared when you didn’t want to die, not those bandits, not that skeleton, and certainly none of the monsters you’d run into down here. Your foot lashes out, kick aimed at its stupid blue head with its stupid red hair-

You just barely connect before something immense and glistening emerges from your chest. It’s red, like the sunset, like the birds that came into the garden, like-

Like your blood, dripping from the tines of the trident. You don’t even have enough time to register that you’re dying before you feel nothing.

Then it’s dark, and you’re alone, and no one ever told you that eternity would be spent living, thinking, but unable to move or hear.

At least your parents would be stuck here too… right?

  
Your mind becomes your sanctuary and your prison. Most of the time you live in a wonderland, one where there are no thieves, no ransoms - that went unpaid, because you meant nothing, all of those years meant nothing, nothing, nothing - nothing bad ever happened to anyone.

In your mind, you go to the famous dance hall. In your mind, the great - you can’t remember his name, what was his name? - teacher taught you his craft. You’re his greatest student, his prized pupil, the apple of your parents eyes. Your feet carry you through the greatest dance halls of the country - and beyond. You fly through halls rich with silk in China, dine in rooms with men whose skin is darker than the black cloth your father had been so intent on shipping, soar on graceful feet through halls made in your honor. The world bends before you and your parents are so, so proud.

**“They don’t want him.”**

**“What?!”**

**“Say they won’t pay the ransom. Boy’s useless.”**

_** No. ** _

In your imagination the world resets. You not only escaped the mountain but you’re stronger than ever before. The monster that killed you is a grotesque shambling horror that you take down bravely, the ones after him equally disgusting. Killing them is practically a mercy. You’re out of the mountain in no time, dust and nothing else left in your wake.

Humanity, too, must pay. You tower over the peasants in your way, breaking and burning their homes to send a message. You take down the king’s army through the power of dance alone, women swooning at your feet and men honored to be killed by your wrath. They’re faceless, unimportant.

Your anger fuels your way through the villages, through the mountain range separating you from them.

Finally, you’re there. You stand in front of the doors to your - no, to their home, and you break through them like a knife through paper. Your parents are there, cowering against the wall, and the fear in their eyes makes you feel powerful.

But first, your brothers. In a stunning display of swordsmanship you defeat both of them at once. They end up kneeling on the ground in front of your parents, and you make sure that they’re watching as you execute your older brothers. Useless cowards. What did they contribute to the world anyways?

You knock them to the ground, their appeals for mercy unheard. You don’t need words. As cruelly as you can imagine, you tear them apart. There’s blood, and limbs, and possibly more carnage than two human bodies could produce but that’s okay.

You re-imagine their deaths over and over. Beheading, hanging, pulled apart on the rack, pierced by the blades used only for heretics.

It’s when you’re reenacting the scene where you execute your brothers that you finally realize that none of this is helping. You’re still so angry, so hur-

No! You prove you don’t care what they think by decapitating your brother and throwing his body to the side. The other one - somewhere they’d gotten mixed up, Thomas’ white-blonde hair on Michael’s freckle ridden face - disappears as you stalk towards your parents.

You heave your father up by his shirt and snarl, “You’re nothing to me! You mean nothing!”

In your mind, he looks hurt, devastated, but something deeper rises, a memory of him congratulating you with an empty smile.

“No!” you shout, flinging him off of a conveniently placed balcony. Your mother is next, a clean snap to her spine. You laugh, throwing your head back, arms spread wide. “See? You hold no power here! Here, I am god!”

The words echo back at you emptily. With a sick feeling in the stomach you no longer have you realize that you’ve allowed your imaginary world to fade away, leaving you in the cold nothingness that is your true reality.

You resurrect the castle in your mind, sweeping up the grand staircase into your parent’s room. This is one of your favorite fantasies. At a gesture from you, their bedroom door flies open, crashing into the wall behind it, the sound immense and powerful. Now your father will look up from his work, your mother-

“Do you know, I am most glad that Samuel is gone,” your mother says, folded primly into a decorative chair.

“I was thinking the same,” your father agrees, not even glancing up at your grand entrance.

“After all, he was quite the failure,” she adds, adding another stitch to her embroidery.

You roar, launching yourself into the room. Your foot extends gracefully, the shoes that in your imagination are lighter than air and stronger than steel aiming straight for her throat-

And abruptly crash into the wall. You spin to find yourself positioned directly behind your mother, who is now listing all of your many failings in her dry, monotone voice. With another shout you launch yourself at her, fingers closing around her thin neck-

And sliding right through it. You gape in horror as your elbows phase through the chair she sits on, your hands gripping only each other. Your parent’s conversation continues as you run over to your father’s desk and attempt to shove all of the papers off to no avail. Nothing moves, and no one responds when you scream.

The walls, the chairs, your parents themselves fade into nothingness. Or maybe it’s you who is fading. You understand now. You never meant anything to anyone. You were never important, never valued, never anything more than a selfish boy pursuing selfish desires. You weren’t even good at ballet. You parents paid for you to be where you were.

You’d never earned anything in your life.

You didn’t just fail to become a dancer - you failed to become anything.

 

Wait, that isn’t right.

You succeeded in one thing.

Becoming a murderer.

  
You scream in anguish.

“GRANDMOTHER!”

  
But

  
“FATHER!”

“MOTHER!

  
Nobody

  
“MICHAEL!”

“THOMAS!”

“PLEASE! SOMEONE! ANYONE! HELP ME!”

  
Listened.

 

_This time you’re barely aware of the separation from the soul, his guilt mixing with your own, the screams of the dying echoing in your mind and you’re positive that if you had a stomach you’d be emptying it right now._

_“See? You think because they’re kids they’re all goodie two shoes?” Flowey asks, laughing at the idea. “You’re surrounded by people just. Like. You. Selfish, worthless, unimportant.”_

_“I am not a murderer!” you shout._

_“Oh? Are you sure about that? Because you’ve given your soul to me. You’ve let me get out. How many people do you think I’ve killed with that power? With your power?”_

_“Shut up!” You can’t hear this, you don’t want to hear it, don’t want to know._

_“See? You can’t even face the idea! I’ve killed hundreds while you’ve sat here moping, and all with the power you gave me. Was it worth it? Was it really worth this?”_

_You don’t know. You don’t know!_

_“You deserve this!” Flowey shouts as his attack hurdles you into a soul that’s colder than ice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Violence, crap parenting, kids acting violently, violent fantasies, abandonment themes, child death, some murder, a brief mention of vomiting but the character's only thinking about it
> 
> Alrighty, long story short my depression has made a massive comeback, my anxiety likes to be a bitch, and my classes are demanding a lot of writing. As such, it's been a while since I updated. I mentioned my beta above, so that's also a thing. Plus a few friends who I discovered don't merit the term, that was fun. Also I live in America, and I'm gay, chronically ill, and mentally ill, which, considering our president, is probably all that you need to know. In essence, 2016 was a shit storm and 2017 hasn't been any better. But I swear this story is not going to be abandoned. If you guys are willing to stick with me and my spotty update schedule then I'll keep updating as long as I've still got an audience.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, hope to see you guys soon.


	52. The Kids Aren't Alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is boring, hopefully I kept it short enough that it isn't painful to read.
> 
> Again, just me, no beta.

The next day yields nothing but more waiting.

Papyrus, unwilling to keep his brother in the dark, reveals to Sans that the three of them had gone out to retrieve the soul piece.

“I know,” is Sans’ only reply.

“Wait, what?” Papyrus asks, startled.

“I heard the two of ya when ya came back. No offense Paps, but you’re not exactly quiet when you’re excited.”

“Oh. I suppose that is true. But! In that case you must also be aware that Gaster was telling the truth! We did, in fact, find what he sent us to look for!”

“Yeah, but you also found a monster who tried to off you. He’s a liar and a cheat.” Sans gets up from the table, placing his untouched breakfast on the counter before turning to walk out.

“Are you not going to tell us not to endanger ourselves?” Papyrus asks, sharing a glance with Ferrin.

“Already did and look where it got me. We’re all gonna die anyways, if you two wanna get it done sooner then I’m not gonna stop ya.” With that, Sans disappeared.

“Ferrin?” Papyrus asks.

“Y-yeah?”

“Would you please say something for me? It starts with an s and rhymes with ‘fit’.”

“Uh… shit?”

“Yes, that is the one,” Papyrus says, dropping back into his chair and burying his face in his hands.

“You okay? Sans was a bit… harsh.”

“He is just worried,” Papyrus says, dodging the question. “When things become too much my brother tends to shut down. I have seen it happen on only a few occasions, but when it did… Let us just say it took quite a while before Sans was himself. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve known people like that. Considering everything I guess it’s not really a surprise.”

“Ferrin, I am worried about you,” Papyrus says suddenly.

“What? I’m not the one avoiding everybody.”

“Your method of coping is not so different. Shoving all negative feelings aside to focus on a task will only get you so far.”

“Who says that’s what I’m doing?”

“Please do not act as though I am an idiot.”

Ferrin sighs, slumping. “Alright, so? What does it matter? They’re gonna come back and then there’ll be no point in handling it anyways.”

Papyrus visibly bites back his response, instead getting up to begin cleaning. “I suppose that is your right.”

“Yeah, just like it’s your right to keep your mouth shut about what really happened with that creepy glitch dude from yesterday.”

Papyrus stiffens before saying in a too confused voice, “Excuse me?”

“The guy tries to kill Averia and I but when you show up he’s just like ‘Oh hey, that’s cool, just gonna let this guy have this’?” Ferrin asks skeptically.

Papyrus continues cleaning for a bit longer before sighing. “I suppose that you have a point. I do not wish to share our conversation. It was…. A bit much.”

“I kinda figured. If you ever do want to talk about it though, I’m right here. Figuratively speaking, since I don’t spend my entire day at your table.”

“I will remember that if you will remember that I offer the same.”

“Got cha,” Ferrin says, leaning her chair back onto two legs. The quiet sound of dishes being washed is soothing. If she closes her eyes she can almost believe that it’s her sibling standing there, washing dishes and humming quietly.

An insistent knocking has the chair legs clacking to the floor as she goes to answer the door.

“Oh hey. Nice to see you two,” Ferrin says to the monster and child duo standing at the door.

“It is very nice to see you as well,” Toriel says, stepping inside with Frisk.

“Hey ya Frisk. You feeling alright? You didn’t look so good last time I saw you,” Ferrin says.

Frisk nods, but Toriel’s worried look tells a different story. “They claim that they are healthy, but they have not yet fulling recovered. They insisted on coming directly here once I declared them healthy enough to stand.”

Frisk nods, scribbling quickly on a notepad. They turn it so that Ferrin can read it.

We need to talk. About Chara.

“Wait, you know Ch-” Ferrin cuts off as Frisk launches themselves forward to place a hand over her mouth, shaking their head furiously. Toriel seems just as befuddled as she is, but Ferrin nods her agreement anyways. Frisk moves their hand from her face to her arm, pulling her upstairs. Toriel shrugs helplessly at the look of confusion Ferrin shoots her way.

Upstairs Frisk pulls her into Papyrus’ room and shuts the door. Before Ferrin can ask any questions the kid has already started signing furiously.

Chara said that they were helping you yesterday. They also said that they’d never spoken to you before, is that true? Did you really find a part of Gaster’s soul? Can he really help? Have you seen Flowey? Toriel won’t tell me if he’s broken the barrier is everyone okay?

“Woah Frisk, you’ve got a lot of questions. Can you repeat those a bit slower?”

They do, looking sheepish.

“Got it, thanks. No, I just met Chara yesterday. Averia thinks it’s Gaster’s so we’re believing her for now. We’re hoping he can. Nope, no Flowey and no broken barrier. As far as I’m aware no one’s even been hurt by him since we last saw him.”

Frisk chews on their lip, looking entirely too worried for a little kid. So you haven’t heard anything from anyone?

“Nope. Back to my question from earlier though - You know Chara?”

Frisk nods. They’re my friend.

“And Toriel doesn’t like them? Is that why you didn’t want her seeing what you wrote?”

Not quite, Frisk confesses. They look nervous, their signing jerky.

“Frisk, what’s going on? Is something wrong?”

Yes. No? Maybe?

“Come here,” Ferrin says, patting the bed beside her as she takes a seat. Frisk sits down and looks up to her. “Alrighty, you’re gonna take a couple of deep breaths with me.”

They do, and when Ferrin decides they’re calm enough she says, “Good job. You feel calm enough to talk now?”

Frisk nods. Sorry. It’s just… Can you please just listen? No questions or reactions until I’m done?

“You’ve got my undivided attention.”

Frisk looks away, steeling themselves before meeting her eyes and starting to sign. A few years after the monsters were put down here, a human kid fell down. They were scared and unhappy, and other humans were always mean to them. When they met their first monster they assumed that he would be the same. Instead he helped them get up and took them to his house, where his parents made them feel better. They found out that their new friends were the monster’s Royal family and thought that they would be thrown out. Instead they were crowned princex. They had a new family, and for a little while they were happy, but before long they started to understand that monsters were dying because they were down here. So they came up with a plan to release them with the help of their brother. All they had to do was die and give him their soul.

It didn’t work. They died like they’d planned, but their brother couldn’t kill the humans to take their souls even when they tried to make him. Instead... he died too.

They wouldn’t find out until later that their mother left their father not too long afterwards. She took their body with her and buried it in one of the few places where sunlight came into the underground, and golden flowers grew over it. Then one day they woke up. But not as themselves.

They were a girl with glasses on her nose and a notebook full of all the reasons she deserved to die. They watched as she approached the king and offered to die for the monsters just like they had. They didn’t know what the king had done since they’d died. They expected kindness, and instead they died with the girl.

Then they woke up again. Only this time, they could be two people, a boy or a girl. The boy wanted revenge, while the girl wanted to protect him. They killed, and then they died.

Again. Another boy, this one confused and scared with a sister back home he needed to get back to. He died before he even left the Ruins.

The next time they woke up it was to someone like them. They watched as they tried to survive the Ruins, and were there when they accidentally killed their first monster. Horrified, the new child wished that they could go back and fix their mistake. To both of their surprise, it worked. The next time the kid was more careful, but when their guide through the Ruins killed them trying to stop them from leaving they became angry.

Frisk stops, a sob coming from their throat. Ferrin holds out her arms wordlessly and they crawl into her lap, still crying. They kept their arms free to sign, apparently unwilling to stop now that they’d begun.

That kid… I did so many bad things. I got mad when they killed me, so mad that I went back over and over just to get revenge. But then… someone made me realize I was doing the wrong thing. I did better. I made friends, I refused to hurt anyone, and eventually I managed it. We were outside and I thought that was where everything was going to end. I wasn’t able to save everyone but I could keep trying from the surface. But then I got sick. No one could figure out why until I was barely breathing. When I was almost gone my soul left my body. It was white, just barely tinted with pink that was draining away as we watched.

I woke up again. I died again. Wake up, die, wake up, die, wake up, die.

I got tired of it and… I killed. Over and over. Until I wasn’t me. I was them. And they were so angry. Angry for the kids that had died, angry at themselves for failing, angry at humanity for hurting the monsters, angry at me for falling, angry at the monsters for not killing me, angry with them for killing me. I think maybe they were just angry in general.

It took a while for them to be able to think rationally again. By then we’d committed so many sins that we thought we couldn’t manage to fix it again. We tried though. We got everyone aboveground again, and I fell ill again while trying to save Flowey. We died down there while he want to go get help.

We’ve tried everything. It just… doesn’t work, Frisk finishes.

“So what you’re telling me is Chara is that first kid, and you’ve done some bad things that you’re trying to make up for now,” Ferrin says, internally reeling from the information. That’s probably way too simplified but hell if she can process all of that now.

Frisk just nods, apparently tired out from their confession.

“Is that what happened before? That illness thing?”

Sort of. Let me show you.

Frisk makes a familiar motion and their soul is pulled from their chest. It’s a bright pink.

“What am I supposed to be seeing here? Is pink bad?” Ferrin asks.

For me yeah. It’s usually really bright, dark red.

“Oh,” Ferrin breathes. “Sh- crap, what’s wrong? Can I help?”

Chara doesn’t have a body, and they don’t have a soul so they can’t produce Determination. To be able to stay awake, or talk, or affect the world they have to use Determination. And since they’re attached to my soul…

“They end up leeching off of you.”

Yeah.

“And you want me to help you get rid of them?”

No! You can’t! Frisk signs, moving their hands to protect their soul as though Ferrin is going to grab it.

“So what then? Can I help you get more Determination?”

Alphys tried. It doesn’t work. It wasn’t this bad before, but the damage from the other timelines gets carried over. My soul can’t do it any more… but even a human soul with a non-Determination main trait can support Chara for a while.

“You want me to let them use my Determination.”

I know it’s a lot to ask, but… I know we need them to save your sibling. And I’ve gotta save them! Please, Ferrin?

“Will they be able to take control of my body?”

Yeah, but they said that they won’t!

“Great. And they know where the other soul pieces are?” Ferrin asks, exhaustion settling like a physical weight on her shoulders.

Yeah, they can sense them. The parts kinda move a lot so I can’t find them on my own.

“Give me a minute to think, alright?” Ferrin says. Frisk nods, and the room is silent except for the souls of quiet conversation drifting up from above. Ferrin weighs her options in her mind, but in the end the answer is obvious. If she’s honest, she knew it once she realized what they wanted.

“Okay. I’ll do it. How?”

Thank you, thank you! You don’t have to do anything. Chara can do it on their own, they just don’t because it’s not very nice. When they wake up I’ll be sure to tell them!

“Right. I hope you know how much trust I’m putting in you.”

I know. I’m gonna make sure you don’t regret it, Frisk promises. You’ll hear from Chara whenever they’re ready.

Downstairs the two of them skirt the topic, assuring Papyrus and Toriel that they hadn’t discussed anything of consequence. Even after Toriel and Frisk leave, Toriel insisting that Frisk get proper rest, Ferrin declines to discuss it.

“Not my secret to tell Paps,” she says tiredly. The portions about Frisk and Chara weren’t something she’d share without their permission, and as for the soul sharing… she didn’t even want to think about that. Much less have to listen to Papyrus try to warn her it was dangerous.

She goes to bed that night nauseated from worrying so much. She keeps wondering if it will hurt, if Chara really won’t use her body for harm, if she can really trust Frisk. She doesn’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning, woken up not long later by Papyrus quietly moving around in the kitchen.

She rolls over, pulling her pillow over her head. Maybe if she just pretends he isn’t there…

It doesn’t work. With a sigh she turns onto her back, resigned. Tired of letting her worries chase each other around her head, she whispers, “Hello? Chara?”

She won’t get a response. It’s impossible, and once she’s verified it she can get up and joke with Papyrus while she eats breakfast. There’s no way that-

_Hello, Ferrin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least this time it didn't take me two months, right? Since it's kinda eh I'll be trying to post a new one soonish.
> 
> Also... who thinks maybe Frisk isn't being quite honest here, hm? (On that note, I'm struggling to think of characters who haven't lied. So far I've got Whimsun and.... yeah nobody else. At least everybody isn't like Asster over there though. So many secrets.)
> 
> Edit: Realized Abe has also been honest and spent a good minute snickering at 'honest Abe'


	53. Gaster Follower Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twenty four pages and 8,896 words later, this is done. It was very nearly broken up into two parts, but hey, might as well release a longer chapter. You've all been waiting long enough.
> 
> If you're reading this could you please consider answering the question I've asked in the notes at the end of the chapter?

“Oh shit,” Ferrin whispers, mouth dry.

Chara doesn’t reply, only the uneasy swirl of guilt and fear that isn’t her own letting her know that they’re still there. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, silently scolding herself. It’s already done, there’s no use in being afraid now.

“Sorry, you just kinda surprised me.”

_Sorry._

“Are you feeling any better now?” she asks hesitantly. Could ghosts - er… spirits? What is Chara anyways? - feel anything in the first place?

_Yeah. I know where the next soul piece is_ , Chara says abruptly.

Relieved that they’d brought it up so she didn’t have to, Ferrin says, “Then I guess I know what we’ll be doing today, huh? Thanks for volunteering to do this by the way.” Yeah, that didn't sound awkward at all...

_I-... Yeah, sure thing._

Ferrin almost presses for the words they’d held back, but opts to ignore it instead. If they were willing to ignore her fear of them then she could overlook whatever they weren’t telling her. “Can you hear what I’m thinking?”

_Sorta. I’m not really listening though_ , they reassured.

“No, no, I’m just wondering-” Ferrin cuts herself off, realizing that she could test it right now. _‘Can you hear me?’_ she asks mentally, feeling somewhat ridiculous.

_Oh! Yes I can, sorry._

_‘No need to apologize, I just figured I’d be a bit less noticeable if I weren’t talking to you out loud,’_ Ferrin thinks, getting to her feet. _‘You ready to head out?’_

_If you are._

“Ferrin, it is good to see you up!” Papyrus calls cheerily from the kitchen.

“‘Morning,” she replies in what she hopes is a casual tone. “You got any plans for today?”

“Let me think… Undyne continues to be rather busy scouring the underground in search of Flowey, and I technically am still in charge of guarding you, but I suppose that is not quite a job. So no, I am not. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve got a good idea of where the next soul bit is,” Ferrin says.

“You do?” Papyrus asks as Ferrin steps into the kitchen. He turns from the eggs he’s scrambling to look at her in confusion. “But how? And for that matter, where is it?”

_Don’t tell him I’m here!_ Chara pleads.

Confused by their sudden fear but unwilling to go against their wishes, Ferrin lies. “Oh, Gaster told me again.”

“I am not sure that I like how he continues to contact you only when no one else is there,” Papyrus says, worried. “I suppose it does get us closer to our eventual goal, however. Can you not tell me where we are to go?”

“Oh! No, I just spaced, sorry. We’re headed to-”

_Hotland_ , Chara supplies hurriedly.

“-some place called Hotland, apparently. Wait, you mentioned it before, didn’t you?”

“It would be there,” Papyrus says, making a face of disgust. “Hotland is unpleasant as a whole. The puzzles there are barely puzzles, and it is far, far too hot!”

“Not like we have much of a choice,” Ferrin points out.

“I know. Shall we at least eat before we go to get Averia?”

“It’d be a shame to waste your cooking,” Ferrin says, helping herself to the toast already on the table.

“That it would!”

 

Not much later the two of them leave Grillby’s with their third party member in tow. No one says anything beyond what is essential as they sail along the river, the River Person humming an eerily familiar tune as they guide the boat.

“Thank you,” Papyrus and Ferrin say almost in unison as they disembark.

“~La la la… The waters are very wild today. That’s bad luck~,” they hum, their boat already moving away.

The trio watched them sail away with unease. Ferrin was unable to shake the feeling that they definitely knew something she doesn’t.

“Vague asshole,” Averia mutters, and when she turns to continue on the two of them follow.

Hotland is, well, hot. She’d been expecting it but is still surprised as the wave of dry heat hits them the second they move away from the room where the river was. The dirt under her feet is loosely packed, and a dusty red residue sticks to her shoes and legs as she walks. The next room leads any one of four ways, prompting her companions to turn to her for instructions.

_Go straight forward_ , Chara says, continuing as Ferrin begins moving. _Usually there are a couple closer, but I can only find one today… Follow the path to the elevator, then hit the button that says L2. They’ll be right outside, so be careful. Sorry I don’t know any more._

“According to the instructions, the next one is going to be pretty much right outside this door,” Ferrin relays. “I don’t have much else on them though. Think we’ve got this?”

Averia scoffs. “What, are you still thinking about what that cloaked asshole said? They just love the sound of their own voice - it’s all meaningless.”

Ferrin can only wish that she could share her easy dismissal as the doors slide open. She spots the oddity almost the second she steps out - they’re not really putting effort into hiding. They look like an enormous head on a slender body, and aside from the jagged black hole that is their open mouth are entirely light grey. Lines like TV static run through their body in intervals, but other than that they look almost normal, especially compared to the first one they’d met.

“Hello!” Papyrus says cheerfully, offering a hand to shake. “We are a trio of friends out looking for… er, well, pieces of a soul. Have you seen any around here?”

The strange monster doesn’t reply, doesn’t even appear to notice them there. Their eyes remained out of focus and aimed in the distance, their mouth unmoving.

“Uh…” Ferrin says, trying to think of something to say and coming up with nothing.

_Try asking if they know Gaster_ , Chara suggests.

‘Alright…’ “Uhm, hey, do you know of a W.D. Gaster?” she tries.

Nothing. The strange being sits still, for all intents and purposes as though someone had made a creepy cardboard cut out and left it on the path.

Averia shakes her head. “Looks like-”

“I understand why Asgore took so long to hire a new Royal Scientist.” The tone of the words is condescending and sounds as though the speaker is trying to talk through a mouth filled with broken glass. Ferrin looks over to find the grey being staring straight at her, its mouth unmoving as it continues. “The previous one…”

“Gaster, right, we know,” Averia interrupts. “Just give us his soul and we’ll be on our way.”

The monster continues as though no one had spoken, the breaks in its speech filled with static. “Dr. Gaster. His brilliance was irreplaceable.”

Its tone and words sound almost as though the monster is trying to… appease someone? Like it knows someone is listening in and wants them to think it praised them constantly.

“However his life…. Was cut short. One day his experiments went wrong, and….”

“And? And what?” Averia demands as it becomes clear that the other isn’t planning to continue.

Between one blink and the next the eerie monster’s eyes were once again trained on the distance. “Well, I needn't gossip. After all…”

Their surroundings suddenly cut out, replaced with darkness. From all around comes the monster’s final words, sharp, angry laughter echoing alongside them. “‘It’s rude to talk about someone who’s listening.’” It sounds strangely like they’re quoting someone else.

Ferrin curses, turning as she tries to make out anything through the darkness. “Guys? You there?”

No one replies. _‘Chara?’_ she tries, hoping to hear a friendly voice, but again her query is met with silence. Ferrin is tempted to try walking around to find someone, but remembering the last time she’d tried moving while unable to see, she votes to stand still.

Suddenly, a voice splits the dark. “Awh, if it isn't my favorite plaything!”

Ferrin takes a deep breath to steady herself. “The last one tried this too you know. Sort of over it.”

Laughter, high and grating. “Over it? Please tell me you're making a - really bad - joke. Do you think that red eyed brat is the only one who can read a soul?”

Red eyed-? She can’t think of anyone she knows with red eyes… unless it’s referring to Chara?

“Wow, you really are out of the loop,” not-Flowey says. “It's pathetic really.”

Ferrin braces herself and turns. The false Flowey has taken on the appearance the small flower had when he was still lying and pretending to be her ally. Now the cheery bobbing and bright smile just remind her how dumb she'd been.

“Oh look, you finally worked up the courage to face me! Or not me, because let's be honest we both know I'm not Flowey. So how's about we take this to the next level then, hm?” With that the flower disappears, dissolving into the impenetrable darkness around her. In its place rise two figures. As they solidify, Ferrin feels her heart leap into her throat.

The one on the right is a woman, a scarce inch shorter than Ferrin. She's dressed in her Sunday best the same way she'd been last time they had seen each other.

The figure on the left is dressed similarly, all stiff lines and painfully rigid posture. He stands a half foot taller than Ferrin - which makes sense, you were the one who got the height, not her - and he uses it to glare down at her as dismissively as if he was really there.

“How's this?” not-her-mother asks. “Surely if the one who killed your sibling won't motivate you we will?”

The terrifyingly familiar slow, deep voice has her stumbling back as the imitation of her father speaks up. “It is not as though you could have forgotten us. What was it, nineteen years of abuse before you finally left?”

“And even then only because _____ made you. Honestly, have you done a single thing on your own?” her mother tuts. “You can't hide behind that vile child forever.”

“They aren't vile!” she shouts, remembering too late that she can't show weakness to this monster.

“Really? I would have thought after they abandoned you with us you would realize how useless that vermin is,” the figure impersonating her father says.

Ferrin clamps her mouth shut, determined not to speak again. This thing doesn't need any more ammunition than it already has - and for that matter, how the hell does it know all of this?

“The silent treatment? How like you. Or maybe it's because you realize that your father and I are right?”

“After all… what have they done if not left you alone again?”

“Shut up!” she screams, “You don't know anything!”

“Or do they?” another voice purrs from behind her. The imitations break up and fade as she whirls around, jumping away from…

Not you, but it sure looks a lot like you. The only thing out of place is the hideous grin stretching so far across your face that you remind her vividly of Flowey.

“You aren't-...” she protests weakly.

“Who knows?” The imitation you lifts its shoulders in a carefree shrug. “Does it matter? You still hate me either way.”

Ferrin takes another step back like the words were a physical blow. “No!”

“Yes,” you hiss. “I can feel it, sis. You hate me.”

“No, no, no!” she shouts, trying to drown out the words but she can't.

“And honestly, why wouldn't you? I've abandoned you how many times now? First with our parents, then by hiding away in that old, rotting house and completely ignoring you, and for what? You still came to bother me. I couldn't escape you until I actually died to get away,” you laugh.

Ferrin is chanting denials under her breath, staring at you wide eyed as you step closer.

“Let's be honest here. I have never, not even once, thought of you as an adult. You're just a little child that I've got to protect. And that's all that you ever will be to me. A burden.”

“I can handle myself! I've been doing it for years!” she counters, anger filling her mind. Who do you think you are?!

“Oh really? You couldn't leave their house without my help, you couldn't go one single day without talking to me - and really, do you have any idea how annoying that was? I'm doing something important, unlike you - you couldn't even get a job to be able to live without me!”

“You were the one who told me to wait for you!” she shouts, jabbing a finger in your direction. “You said you were going to find somewhere for us to live - but you lied! We aren't living! We're hiding!”

“Because you can't face our parents!”

“Fuck you! You're the one who won't even call them our… parents,” she says haltingly. “Oh my god. I can't believe-”

“What? Can't believe how pathetic you are?” not-you sneers.

Ferrin gathers herself. “Nah, just can't believe how bad you are at impersonating my sib. Like wow dude. That was bad. They haven’t called them our parents since high school.”

“Wh- I am your sibling!” they roar, but she catches the look of desperation that flashes across their face for a moment.

“No, you aren't. You're a fake, and the monster who’s trying to trick me is really bad at faking,” she says, gaining confidence as she speaks.

The fake gathers itself, sneering. “Okay, so what if I'm not them? You still hate them!”

Ferrin shakes her head. “No, I don't.”

“But- but they just abandoned you!” the illusion objects, and it's at that moment that she notices they're fading. The wall of darkness behind them is no longer opaque either - she can just barely catch a glimpse of the elevator through it.

“My sib would never,” Ferrin declares, and she might have forgotten that for just a moment there but she knows it to be true. “They're an idiot with a bit of a martyr complex but they have always cared about me. Our parents were shit and they're the only one who's always looked after me. So yeah, maybe they have trouble not treating me like a kid. And yeah, I'm going to deck them for putting me through this. But I refuse to let some insignificant asshole convince me that I hate them.”

The fake screeches, hands curled into claws as it charges her, but she can see right through its fingers, and the second that it touches her it shatters. The rest of the illusion goes with it. Already braced for another attack she faces the eerie grey monster. There are loud crashes and snarls behind her, but she's only able to focus on one threat at a time.

“Hmm. It appears that I miscalculated,” they say, still unmoving, still staring into the distance. “You humans are an unfortunate problem. You never do know when to give up.”

“Hand it over,” Ferrin demands, arm outstretched.

“Well. I suppose that even if I have lost, my work may have at least prevented that incompetent buffoon from ever coming back.”

“I said-”

The monster's eyes suddenly focus on her. “But before that, I must ask; do you truly believe you are doing the right thing?”

_Duck!_ Chara shrieks, and when Ferrin doesn't move fast enough they take control and send her flat onto the ground. A sharpened bone flies overhead and pierces the stone wall, vibrating from the force behind its flight.

From the ground, Ferrin can see what she'd missed before. All manner of small animals are crawling towards her, - no, past her - each and every one dead and rotting. She gags as a snake slithers past with its flesh peeling off as it goes. Scrambling to her feet she finds the illusionist gone, and in its place another irregularly shaped white piece of soul. She dodges a scurrying rat - this one long stripped of all flesh - and grabs onto it, afraid it will disappear.

_Left, left left!_

This time she moves quickly enough, the projectiles flying past her and into the distance. What she misses are the next round already on their way. Just as she notices them too late, a wall of bones rise up to block the barrage.

“Papyrus!” she cries, relieved. “You're okay!”

“Yes,” he agrees tersely, and it's then that she notices the tear tracks on his face. He won't meet her eyes, instead pointing further down the path. “I believe we have larger issues at the moment.”

Not twenty feet away, Averia is locked in intense battle with… nothing. The summoned dead seem just as confused as Ferrin is, collecting at Averia’s feet only to mill around uselessly.

“But the illusion should be gone, right?” Ferrin asks Papyrus.

“I would have thought so,” he replies, confused.

“Averia? Can you hear us?” Ferrin calls.

Averia whips around, sockets blank, purple and silver magic snapping around her. “You,” she snarls.

That's all the warning the two of them get before they're under attack. Papyrus shoves Ferrin behind him and summons row after row of dense bones to protect them. As Averia’s projectiles hit them both burst, and so it's a constant battle on Papyrus’ part to keep them shielded. What is more difficult to stop is the hoard of undead animals making their way across the dirt. Some are cut down by Averia’s own attacks, others blocked by the shield, but still some seep through the cracks. The first to get past is a tiny bone lizard. As it approaches her foot Ferrin stomps down instinctively. The snap of fragile bone under her sneakers is nauseating.

“What's going on?!” she asks hysterically.

“I do not know but it is not good!” Papyrus replies.

“You killed them! All of them!” Averia howls. Then her voice shifts, dropping several octaves as she - or he? - roars, “Estelle! I will have revenge for my daughter!”

“Who the hell is Estelle?! We're Ferrin and Papyrus!” Ferrin shrieks, dodging a striking snake and crushing the head of a bird.

That finally gets a reaction. For just a second Averia hesitates, but a moment later her attacks continue. Only the undead animals seem to pause.

“What just happened?” Papyrus asks, straining to block a more intense wave. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to hurt the obviously out of it woman, but it’s a visible strain.

“I don't know,” Ferrin admits, calling out, “Averia! Theo! Can you guys hear us? We're not your enemies! It's Papyrus and Ferrin, remember? I don't know what you guys are seeing but we're right next to that elevator from before. We just got the next piece of Gaster’s soul.”

With that the undead creatures fall to the floor, unmoving. Averia freezes, bone attacks locked into place.

Ferrin and Papyrus exchange a glance, confused. Papyrus moves to dismiss his shield.

“No, don't,” Ferrin finds herself saying. “Something isn't right.”

_‘A little warning next time?’_ she thinks, watching as Papyrus nods.

_Sorry, but something isn't right. He needs to keep that up._ Chara releases their hold on her slowly.

“Averia?” Papyrus calls. “We do not intend you any harm, but we would like an explanation.”

The other monster doesn't move.

“What should we do?” Ferrin asks when it becomes clear that they aren't going to be getting a response.

“Well… I would very much like to help, but I am not sure that we can. I also do not much relish the idea of facing her in hand-to-hand combat,” Papyrus says hesitantly.

“But you could, right?”

“If it comes down to that I believe so, but in the event that it does occur… please run,” he says grimly.

“Let's just hang back, okay? Hopefully she starts moving again and everything will be alright?” Ferrin suggests hopefully.

Papyrus nods, and the two of them fall silent. Ferrin eyes the army of undead critters warily, but they seem disinclined to move, much like their summoner.

Several tense minutes later, Averia shudders and stumbles backwards, raising a hand to her head. She looks wildly disoriented, eye lights darting around the carnage too fast to really take it in. When they finally land on Papyrus’ barrier and the two hidden behind it she freezes, staring at them.

This time Chara doesn't object when Papyrus slowly disintegrates his bone attacks. They approach slowly and cautiously, watching for signs of a renewed attack. As they get closer Ferrin notices Averia is shaking, her expression glazed over.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks, reaching out and placing a hand on the skeleton’s shoulder.

In rapid succession, Averia goes rigid, her sockets go blank and Ferrin realizes too late that she's made a terrible mistake. A clawed hand rears back, Ferrin flinches and all of the sudden there are four lines of fire across her face. Blood drips down into her eye as she reels back, clutching her wounds. She sees more than hears Averia stumbling backwards as Papyrus instantly moves to help Ferrin..

“Ferrin!” he cries, worried.

“‘S’okay,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “I'm fine.”

“You are most assuredly not fine! That is far too much blood for you to be fine!”

“Face wounds bleed a lot?” she tries, moving her hands so she can test her vision. She’s alert enough despite her shock to be relieved when both eyes work just fine, even if the blood in her right eye stings.

Papyrus is peering at her in worry. “We have to get to my home immediately. I realize that you are strong but I fear you may faint if we wait.”

“Yeah, yeah… Wait, Paps, where's Averia?” Ferrin asks. The skeleton woman is nowhere to be seen.

“She departed immediately after wounding you, but she is the least of our concerns,” Papyrus says as he guides her to the elevator.

“I got the soul piece,” Ferrin says, swaying a bit as the adrenaline drains from her body. She'd somehow kept her grip on it despite pretty much forgetting it was there somewhere in the panic after she'd gotten it.

“I had almost forgotten that was our goal,” Papyrus confesses. “Do you believe you can keep a hold of it or should I take it?”

“S’okay,” she says, ignoring Papyrus’ worried look but accepting when he offers a shoulder for her to prop herself up on.

She leans on him heavily as they make their way back to the River Person’s dock, where they find them waiting silently. They speak as the boat begins to move towards the tunnels.

“Eat a mushroom a day… Why? Because then I will know that you are listening to me…”

She notes that their speech is oddly solemn, despite their words. The ride back to Snowdin is a little hazy as her body begins to pump her full of natural painkillers. Or maybe she's going into shock, she's not sure.

She staggers as she steps onto the Snowdin dock, kept from falling into the snow only by Papyrus. He lifts underneath her knees and shoulders so that she's resting up against him. She thinks maybe she should protest, but things feel fuzzy and she's not sure why.

The next thing she knows she's on a soft surface and something sweet and salty is being dripped into her mouth. She swallows on reflex alone and her mind sharpens enough to be afraid. The next gulp of drink clears her head completely and she opens her eyes. She's on the couch at Papyrus’ place, a small hand holding hers and a larger bone one holding a glass bottle to her lips. He doesn't stop helping her to drink until she's finished it off.

Ferrin groans, moving to sit up. Two sets of hands press her back onto the pillow.

“Geez guys, I'm not dying,” she says, grimacing at the stickiness covering her face. Now that she thinks about it that drink had also had a gross tinge of blood to it.

“You should still rest! Those cuts aren't entirely healed, let me go get you another Sea Tea,” Papyrus says, speed walking to the kitchen.

Chara told me what happened, Frisk signs as he moves out of sight. I think maybe Averia is a very bad person.

“Actually,” Ferrin says, sitting up now that there's no one to hold her down, “I'm pretty sure I'm the one who f- messed that up.”

“And I am pretty sure that I asked you to remain lying down,” Papyrus says as he reenters the room.

“What, and get blood all over your couch?” she shoots back, accepting the cold drink. She only then realizes that the warm, solid, irregularly shaped object in her other hand must be the soul piece. “Besides, I'm feeling a lot better.”

“If you insist. I believe that we have Cinnamon Buns somewhere in the freezer but I cannot seem to locate them… perhaps I should go get some,” he says thoughtfully.

“I'm fine, watch, I'll finish this off and everything will be alright,” Ferrin assures him before taking a long drink. Urgh, now that she’s paying more attention that is way too salty.

She's working herself up to finishing it off when the door clicks open. She instantly leans over and shoves the soul shard into the clean clothing she'd stacked by the couch just the day before.

“What. The. Hell.” It's Sans, and there goes her half formed plan to clean herself up before anyone else saw her.

“Ah! Brother,” Papyrus says, fiddling with his gloves uncomfortably. He looks like he wants to continue but has run out of words.

“Papyrus, were you hurt too?”

“No. Sans, I-”

“What happened,” Sans asks flatly, walking across the room to get a closer look at the mostly healed wounds on her face.

“An accident,” she answers.

“Oh really? Somebody just up and tore off half of your face by accident?” Sans asks, bitingly sarcastic.

“Yup.”

“Bullshit. Papyrus, what's goin’ on here? Was it something to do with Gaster? I swear if it was-”

“It wasn't Gaster, it was an accident, and it was my fault,” she insists stubbornly.

Sans sighs in frustration when he realizes that she's going to stick to that story. “Alright, fine, how much Sea Tea have you had?”

“This is my second bottle.”

“Good. You should be healed completely if you drink another one,” he says, and gives her a wry grin when she wrinkles her nose in distaste. “I've gotta agree, stuff’s nasty. Pap’s the only reason we've got any around. I'm gonna go get another for you right now.”

He leaves, and Ferrin tilts the bottle back to down it as fast as she can. “Gah, that is so gross. Do you really like this stuff Paps?”

“It is a very nice taste! Much better than that coffee you like so much.”

“Dude, you tried to drink it without adding anything first, of course it was gross,” she says, grinning even though it hurts to move her face.

“A proper drink should already be ready for consumption when it is served!”

Sans returns, replacing the empty bottle in her hand with a full one. “Bone appétit.”

“So original,” she says, rolling her eyes, but it's nice to hear Sans punning again. He can’t be too mad if he’s making jokes… probably.

Apparently she's not the only one relieved by the change. The second Sans steps away Papyrus hugs him like he hasn't seen him in years. She revises her first assumption as she notes the tears coming from his eye sockets. This had to be tied to whatever he'd been shown in the illusion.

“Papyrus?” Sans asks, confused.

“I am just so glad that you are here, brother,” Papyrus says, voice unsteady.

Sans doesn't respond, but he does hug his brother a little tighter. When he moves back Ferrin swears she can see him looking Papyrus over worriedly.

“You used a lot of magic,” he says slowly. “Somethin’ I should know about?”

“It is unimportant, brother. You are right, however, I am very tired. I believe I may even go to bed early,” Papyrus says.

“Wait, isn't it way too early?” Ferrin asks, glancing at the clock. She double takes - nine?! It was already that late at night?

“Yes but as I said, I am very tired. Little human,” he says, addressing Frisk, “Would you like me to walk you to your hotel room?”

No, they sign. I can get back on my own.

“Actually, why isn't Toriel with you?” Ferrin asks.

Um… I might have snuck out?

“I bet Tori’s gonna appreciate that,” Sans says.

Frisk grimaces and waves goodbye as they walk out the door. Sans and Papyrus both leave for bed after the latter checks her over one more time and reminds her to finish the drink. She does so, albeit slowly. By the time she's finished both brothers are in their rooms and the blood on her face is going from sticky to hard. Since moving her jaw only brings faint pain, she figures it must be safe to wash off and heads upstairs to the bathroom.

She lets out a soft whistle at the sight of her own face in the mirror. No wonder Sans had flipped out, she looks like she's just stepped out of a horror movie. All but the left side of her forehead is splattered with blood. The claw marks are either gone or faded to scars underneath the gore, but it's not hard to guess what had happened.

There's blood all down her front too, gluing her shirt to her front uncomfortably. Definitely gonna take more than a washcloth and some warm water. She leaves to grab a change of clothes from beside the couch and returns to take a shower. She lets the water run down her face to soften the caked on blood before very gently wiping it away with a washcloth. She also does her best not to look at all of the red washing down the drain.

Finally clean, she wipes down the mirror to get a look at the damage and is pleasantly surprised. The gashes have healed almost without any lasting effect. If she angles her face to catch the light just right she can see four faint lines, but they're only barely visible. If she hadn’t known they must be there then she might not have noticed them at all. The only obvious mark is her eyebrow. Whatever other miracles it could work Sea Tea evidently can’t speed up hair growth. Her right eyebrow is split into two parts, the thickest part right next to the bridge of her nose and the few hairs that made up the tail end. She can't help but laugh - it looks pretty ridiculous.

Still, she knows she got lucky. Averia could have done a lot more damage. Heck, she nearly did - Ferrin's pretty sure her eye was only spared because she'd started to move away. She shuts down the question of whether or not magic food can bring back organs before she can think on it any further.

Downstairs she sits down, glancing at the clock - only just past nine thirty. Still full of energy from the tea, she flicks on the television to watch some mindless entertainment.

A few hours later she's dozing off when there's a knock on the door. She almost considers sitting there in the hopes that whoever it is will just go away when Chara speaks up.

_I don't think she's gonna go away._

_‘She…? This should be interesting,’_ Ferrin notes wryly, standing up and stretching. Just as she reaches the door there's another soft knock, almost like the person there is trying not to be heard. Bit too late for that one, Ferrin thinks as she unlocks the door and swings it open. Standing there, clothing soaked through, clutching a bag from the store right next to the Inn, is Averia.

“Hey,” Ferrin says, trying for a casual tone.

Averia’s head is bowed, her body wound tight. When she speaks it’s with the stiff and uncomfortable tone of someone who’s spent too long rehearsing what they were about to say. “...Hello. I know that nothing I can say or do will make repairs for what I have done, and that is fair. Theo and I attacked you and Papyrus without cause, but it is my fault alone that your face was injured. I can only offer my most sincere apologies and food that should ensure your face will not be permanently scarred.”

Ferrin has to take a moment to digest thespeech. Finally she says, “Would you mind doing something for me?”

“Absolutely,” Averia responds instantly.

“Come inside and talk with me,” Ferrin says, stepping aside.

The other woman does so reluctantly, looking around as though she expects someone to spring out and attack her. She jumps at the sound of the door clicking shut behind her. Ferrin is careful to move slowly around her, making sure that Averia can see her moving as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“You like tea?” Ferrin asks, rifling through the cupboards.

“Yes,” Averia answers stiffly, placing the bag on the table and taking a seat. She moves like- Well, like she's used up all of her energy and then forced herself to keep going. She's also dripping water onto Papyrus’ immaculate floors, that should be fun to explain tomorrow.

“Sounds good,” Ferrin says, realizing several moments too late that she had yet to respond. So much for not making this awkward.

The room is quiet aside from the sounds of tea preparation. Ferrin slides an assorted box of tea bags onto the table as she sits down with her mug. “I sort of overheated it, maybe give it a minute to cool down. Also wasn't sure what you like so choose whatever.”

Averia mutters a distracted thanks before taking a drink.

“Or, you know, ignore what I just said, that's cool too,” Ferrin says.

“Wh- Shit. Sorry,” Averia mutters, making sure to actually put in a tea bag before drinking again.

“Doesn't that hurt? I mean this stuff was boiling not even a minute ago.”

“Not really. I don't have skin to get burnt in the first place.”

“Huh.”

The room is quiet again, awkward tension building. Ferrin can't quite figure out what to say. Does she bring up the fight, or the soul piece currently hidden away under her spare clothes? Is it okay to ask what had happened after the illusion was gone? Does she want to demand an explanation for the wounds on her face, or more apologies? It takes a few moments for her to come to the conclusion that she has absolutely no idea what she wants from the woman in front of her.

“Your face looks better,” Averia says bluntly, wincing as the last word hangs in the air.

Ferrin latches onto the topic with relief. “Yeah, amazing what monster food will do, huh? It still kinda hurts to talk but other than that I'm good as new.”

“It still hurts?”

“Only a bit. It's really okay.”

“Let me heal you.”

“I, uh, it's really okay,” Ferrin assures awkwardly. She wants those claws nowhere near her face ever again. “I'm fine.”

“Not if your face still hurts. The monster food might not have repaired the muscle underneath the skin properly. It isn’t really meant for humans in the first place. I'm not the best healer, but everybody on the Guard had basic healing training,” Averia insists.  
  
Realizing that she wasn't going to win this one easily, Ferrin nods. Averia moves her hands slowly to Ferrin's face, watching for signs of discomfort. The scarred palms touch her cheeks lightly as violet magic warms her skin. Her cheeks itch fiercely as the magic works its way in, but by the time Averia removes her hands she can open and close her mouth without pain.

“Woah, you're not half bad at that,” Ferrin says, poking her cheek to test if it was really healed and feeling no pain.

“Like I said, it was a requirement.”

Ferrin focuses in on the strange scarring of the skeleton’s palms, and before she can think better of it says, “Hey, how'd that happen anyways? It looks almost like a badly healed burn.”

“It is, sort of,” the skeleton monster says, tilting her hand to observe it. “Do you know why monsters get scars?”

“Uhh… I think someone told me and I've forgotten,” Ferrin confesses.

“It's not quite like human scarring. Ours reflect damage done to the soul, or mental scars that we haven't healed from. These are a reminder of my greatest failure,” Averia says, voice eerily calm.

“O-oh,” Ferrin says weakly. “Probably could've picked something more cheerful to talk about, sorry.”

Averia shrugs. “It's isn't as though not talking about it will make it so that it never happened.”

“Right… Which is why I'm gonna say let's just talk about what happened today instead of beating around the bush,” Ferrin says, voice firm.

“I don't know what you want to hear.”

“The truth. What the hell happened today? Who is Estelle? Why was Theo so furious, and why was he talking about his daughter? Why did you attack us?”

“Thanks for narrowing that down,” Averia says sarcastically, then sighs. “If that's what you want.

“I was standing beside you when everything went dark. I couldn't see anything, but I did hear a voice calling from a little ways away. I couldn't quite place it, but Theo knew who it was right away. That's when he took control - he wouldn't listen when I told him it was an illusion. When we got to the source of the voice… It was his daughter being sacrificed by Estelle. You’ve probably heard about her. She was the one who raised this barrier, but she didn't have the power to keep it active after she died, so she needed human souls. She was a sadistic, rotten souled bitch so she decided to use the souls of children.

“We just… lost it. It was like it was happening all over again, only this time it was us against her and her cronies without backup. We’d cut one down and they'd just get back up, and the entire time she won't shut up. It was a war that ended with us coming up here and getting sealed off. There were so many unanswered questions, so many people - monsters especially - who just vanished. I've spent too much time wondering what the truth was - the illusion was spouting all of my worse case scenarios. People who should’ve been safe dying alone.

“I don't know how much of what we saw was that monster and how much we created in our own head. Theo came to when you reminded us of where we were - I think most of the flashback was mine. I panicked when he took control, but I don't know what I might be done to you two otherwise. I didn't know who you were, or where I was. Might as well have gone back in time. I wasn’t really all the way back when you touched me, and…”

Ferrin speaks up when Averia trails off. “I actually wanted to apologize for that. I should have known better and it wasn't your fault for lashing out.”

“I clawed your face! You're lucky you got away with so little damage,” Averia protests.

“Yeah and I touched you without permission when you were obviously not in a good place.”

“That doesn't justify what I did!”

Ferrin groans. “I still say you aren't at fault, but how's this. You forgive me for fucking up, and I do the same for you.”

“That's an unequal, terrible trade off on your part.”

“Yeah, but I suggested it.”

Ferrin holds her ground, meeting Averia’s gaze without backing down. Finally the skeleton monster sighs wearily.

“Sure, whatever.”

“Shake on it,” Ferrin insists, holding out a hand. Averia takes it reluctantly, and as they break the handshake Ferrin notices the water on her hand.

“That's right, how’d you get so wet?”

“Oh. Yeah,” she says, pinching the wet fabric between two claws. “I was in Waterfall before I came here.”

“You weren't at Grillby’s?”

Averia shrugs uncomfortably. “I wanted to be alone.”

Ferrin casts around for another topic as the two of them sit there silently. She's starting to get the impression that a few hundred years with only a voice in her head to keep her company hadn't exactly given Averia skills in small talk.

“Oh!” she says suddenly, jumping up - and mentally groaning at herself as Averia flinches away - before walking into the front room. She digs through the pile of clothing until she finds the piece of soul and brings it into the kitchen. “With everything that happened afterwards I guess you wouldn't know that we found this.”

She holds it out to Averia, who takes it gently, running a thumb over it in a soothing motion. Ferrin doesn't miss the distant, wistful look on her face.

“You must miss him, huh?” she asks quietly.

“Every day since then,” Averia says.

“I get that,” Ferrin replies. The glitching monster’s final question rings in her ears, prompting her to continue. “Gaster… what was he like?”

“A stubborn, prideful, difficult moron who never remembered to take care of himself. I have no idea how he managed to be a father when he couldn't remember to feed himself half the time,” Averia responds fondly. “Also the most brilliant person I ever met, at least when it came to science and magic. He was also an absolutely terrible liar. Luckily he was good at keeping his mouth shut and people were constantly underestimating my ability to lie, so we made it work.”

Ferrin grins, holding back laughter. That mix of pride and subtle exasperation is all too familiar to her. “So you guys weren't, you know, biological siblings, right?”

“Nah. Did fill out all the official paperwork though.”

“How did that even happen?”

“What, meeting him? Long story short, the Royal Army was in charge of checking nearby battlefields for newly made monsters. He needed someplace to stay, I had the space, and the rest is history.”

“Wait, the Captain of the Royal Guard had to do that? Wasn't there anything else you should have been doing instead?”

Averia laughs, shaking her head. “That was decades before I became Captain. Back then I was just the newest member of the Guard, and we were expected to do the less glamorous jobs just like everybody else. Magore and Captain Viden always insisted on that.”

“Do you… Is it possible that Gaster could have… changed? Since you last met him?”

The other women is instantly on the defensive. “What, you been listening to Sans?”

“It was actually that glitch thing from today that brought it up. It wanted to know if I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Averia scoffs. “You're scraping the bottom of the barrel if you're taking advice from that thing.”

“But you just said that Sans brought it up too! It's a legitimate question,” she insists.

“Anybody can change. I sure as hell have. He lost everything; his home, his wife, most of his research, his colleagues and friends, his sister, and then he gets stuck down here. Who the hell even knows what he experienced? I don't,” Averia says, biting off the words like each one caused her personal injury. “He could be a complete stranger now for all I know.”

Ferrin shrinks back at the venom in her tone, wincing. Apparently she'd picked at a sore subject.

Averia looks up and, seeing her reaction, stands up. “I- This was a bad idea.”

“Wait! You don't have to- Oh hell,” Ferrin groans. “I'd much rather you didn't leave.”

“Why? Do you want the soul piece back? Then take it,” Averia says, holding it out. “Since you don't trust me not to do I don't even know what with it-”

“That isn't it!” Ferrin interrupts, exasperated. “This is just ridiculous! How are we supposed to work together if you can't decide if you're going to treat me like public enemy number one or a regular person who's doing her best?”

“I don’t… That doesn't matter.”

“Oh yes it does! I get it, okay? Humanity sucks sometimes! I haven't been treated well by some humans either but I don't go around deciding that everyone who's ever had a kid is a shitty person. I'm human and I care about the monsters down here, and I want to help you guys get out and I wish people just like me hadn't been idiot assholes but you know what? I can't change that. The only thing I can do is try to fix what they did and the only way I know how to do it is by working with you, but we can't do this if you hate me for things I can't change!” Ferrin is breathing hard by the time she finishes speaking, but goddamn did it feel nice to finally step edging around these problems.

Averia listens without trying to interrupt and when Ferrin finishes she looks as though she's thinking hard. It feels like the situation has finally reached a point of no return - either Averia acknowledges what she's done or she insists she has a right to continue to hate all of humanity. Either way things won't be left the way that they are.

Finally, Averia moves. She walks forward slowly until she's only two feet from Ferrin, forcing the shorter of the two to look up to meet her eye sockets. Equally slowly she reaches to take Ferrin’s hand with her free one, bringing it up and twisting it palm up. Averia then places the piece of Gaster’s soul in the palm of her hand.

“You're wrong, but that's my fault. I've been lying to myself for a while now, and I only really realized it when I hurt you today,” Averia says, meeting Ferrin's confused gaze. “I thought I hated all humans because of what happened. I thought that you all deserved to be punished. But when I hurt you I felt guilty. It didn’t make sense - if you deserved punishment why was what I had done wrong? I went to Waterfall to try to sort myself out, but I still couldn't find a way to convince myself that you'd deserved to be hurt. Same goes for that kid with Toriel, and your sibling. I should've already known that but I'm a fucking moron so there you go.

“It's also why I came to apologize. I fucked that up too. And again, right now. You've had this piece of my brother's soul for hours now - if you were going to do something you already would've. Yet here I am, acting like an idiot again,” Averia says bitterly, releasing Ferrin and taking a step back.

Ferrin is shocked into silence, unable to think of a response even as Averia turns to walk out the door. The click of the lock spurs her into action

“W-wait!” she calls, hurrying to catch up.

“What,” Averia says, voice flat as she turns to look at her.

“I just… um…” Ferrin pauses, then asks, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Go ahead,” Averia says despite her obvious confusion.

Ferrin reaches out and takes Averia’s hand, moving it to mimic the position her own had been in a moment ago. She can't resist the temptation to slide a finger over one claw as she does so, feeling the blunt edge and marveling that these were the claws that had torn her face only a few short hours ago. Ferrin places the soul piece in the palm of Averia’s hand.

“It's a nice gesture - and thanks for trusting me with it - but I think if I could, I would want to keep my sibling as close to me as I could. And about today, and all of that… I'm not really an expert, but I think the first step to changing is acknowledging that you have to change, so you're on the right track. And you did come and apologize after all, so… you know,” Ferrin finishes lamely, embarrassed.

More silence. This is beginning to become a very awkward pattern, Ferrin thinks as she shuffles her feet on the carpet.

“Why forgive me?” Averia asks finally.

“Well, ‘an eye for an eye makes the world go blind’ and all that, right?”

Averia nods, then says, “You mind if I touch you?”

“Uh, no?”

A hand descends on her head and musses up her hair, causing her to squawk indignantly and duck to get away. Averia just laughs. “You're a weird kid, you know that?”

“I've heard it a couple of times,” Ferrin replies with a grin. Unless she's much mistaken, something has changed, and it's for the better.

The moment is broken as a squeal of delight causes both women to jump and look for the source. Above them on the ledge overlooking the living room are the skeleton brothers, Sans leaning against the banister lazily while Papyrus, the culprit, is hopping up and down in excitement.

“Wh-when did you guys get here?” Ferrin asks, stammering in surprise.

“Somewhere between Averia healin’ ya and all the screamin’ you two did,” Sans says with a chuckle. “Glad to see it all worked out.”

“I knew you could do it, Aunt!” Papyrus squeals, still bouncing.

“I'm not really…” Averia objects weakly.

“Nonsense! If we are allowed to choose our family members then I am allowed to declare you my aunt!”

“That's not… how it works?” Averia tries.

“Nah, you're stuck with us now,” Sans says, chuckling. There's a joking quality to his words that Papyrus’ are lacking.

“I… ah fuck it,” Averia mutters under her breath, too quietly for anyone but Ferrin to hear.

Papyrus’ next words are interrupted by a yawn, and Ferrin looks over to find the short hand of the clock well on it's way to two in the morning.

“Holy smokes it's late,” she says with a yawn of her own.

“And that's my cue to leave,” Averia says. “It's been… interesting. You guys know where I'll be whenever you get more instructions.”

She waves awkwardly at Papyrus’ near-shouted, “Good night Aunt Averia!” before disappearing outside. Ferrin locks the door behind her, still off balance from the weirdness of the day. Before she gets the chance to speak she's lifted up in an enthusiastic hug as Papyrus spins her around.

“You have done it!” he declares. “You have befriended the most prickly of skeletons!”

Ferrin laughs at her friend's enthusiasm. “Holy shit, that really did happen didn't it?”

“It did, it did!” Papyrus cheers, still spinning. He only stops when Ferrin, laughing, begs him to let her down before she hurls. She staggers onto the couch, the world spinning around her.

“Who would've thought all it took was a good pint of blood and facial scarring to get that to work,” Ferrin jokes.

Papyrus grimaces. “Yes, well, let it not be said that my aunt is anything but stubborn.”

“You seriously gonna start calling her that now?” Sans calls down from his perch.

“Well, it is not as though it is an inaccurate title!”

“Fair ‘nough. Ya think you can avoid finding any more trouble for a few hours Ferrin? I've gotta catch up on my beauty rest,” Sans jokes.

“Trust me, I've had enough trouble to last me a lifetime. Or at least until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Make it eleven and you've got yourself a deal. ‘Night,” Sans calls as he disappears into his room.

“You should get some rest,” Papyrus frets. “Would you perhaps find it easier to rest on my bed?”

“Nah, I'm comfortable on the couch. Go get some sleep, sorry for waking you up,” Ferrin says.

“There is no need to apologize! You have accomplished something very great here tonight!” Papyrus declares, expression shifting to become more serious as he continues. “Do you really think she has changed?”

“I don't think she was a bad person to begin with, but I'd be willing to bet she's rethought things now,” Ferrin says with another wide yawn.

“Very well, I shall leave you to your sleep. Good night Ferrin!” Papyrus calls, charging up the stairs. How he'd made it down without alerting her earlier is beyond her.

“‘Night,” she calls back, settling into the couch and finding her blanket. Tomorrow - or later today, really - was going to be interesting.

 

 

  
Averia kicks the snow off of her beaten up sneakers - the closest to her size they'd managed to find at the nearby store - before unlocking the door to Grillby’s bar. All of the lights are out, the patrons long gone and the proprietor likely upstairs asleep in his bed.

Unwilling to risk waking him up she lays down on one of the larger booth seats. The soul piece in her hand glows warmly as she settles it on her chest, wrapping an arm around it protectively. The kid was right - it's comforting to have it nearby.

Tired and worn out she opts to push her thoughts aside in favor of sleep, but can't help chuckling at one in particular.

“Aunt, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short Public Service Announcement: Do not touch people in the middle of/just out of flashbacks or panic attacks.
> 
> According to Google docs spellcheck, Averia's name is; Avery, Avian, Avia, Andy, or Avit. Maybe we have at last discovered why the author of My Immortal had so much difficulty sticking to one name for the main character.
> 
> That River Person. Always saying such ~wacky~ things.
> 
> That reminds me though, since we're getting closer to the end of the story (I'd guess only a bit more then 10 chapters are left) I thought I'd ask - would anyone be interested in a Q&A blog takeover type thing with the characters? No spoilers, the characters in question may then be either alive or deceased, but I think it would be fun. 'Course to do that there would have to be actual interest in it so I thought I'd pose the question to you guys. If anyone is unwilling/unable to get onto tumblr for the questions I could post them on a separate 'story' on here to make it easier to access.


	54. A Sickly Yellow-Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter covers a couple of sensitive topics, hopefully I did alright, if not take it up with me in the comments. If you think you might be triggered by any of the content check out the end notes, there are some trigger warnings down there.
> 
> It's like 3 AM and I've got stuff to get done but here I am.
> 
> No beta, please forgive me my mistakes. Or mention them so I can fix them, that works too.

In your first memory, you're five and your mother hits you for speaking out of turn.

“You're embarrassing me,” she says.

In the next you're six and your parents leave separately on business, only Mother’s bag is full of colorful clothes and fancy shoes and Father's is too small to be carrying much, if anything, and they don't remember to say goodbye. The nanny is nice to you but when Father comes back two weeks later he fires her and when you ask why he tells you to shut up. Mother screams about her jewelry when she gets back.

“You should have gotten a better maid,” she shouts.

“I replaced her, didn't I?” your father responds.

“You only chose her for her ass,” your mother sneers and that's the end of it and you don't understand until later what was going on.

You're six and three months and you come home excited to tell your parents about your new friend. She's a little bit different - the other kids say that she’s weird, and she’s always playing with her necklace and a few times you’ve seen her chew on it, but she was nice to you and she let you play with her on the swings. Your mom's face screws up in disgust when you talk about her.

“You shouldn’t talk to things like that,” is all she says and the derision in her voice startles you.

“But Violet's nice,” you protest, not knowing then how to put into words that she was the only one not scared of your parent’s wealth, your father’s position, the only kid who spoke to you like you were like them.

“They shouldn't exist. It's kinder to them and their parents to put them down,” she insists.

You're wrong, you think. Violet is nice and you decide that means she's going to be your best friend forever, even if Mother doesn't like her.

You're six and a half and you're meeting Violet's parents for the first time. Mr. Garcia is tall and thin, Mrs. Garcia a bit shorter than him and a little wider, both with smiles on their faces. They say they're happy that their daughter had made a friend, that you're welcome in their house whenever, that you can call them Miguel and Sofia. They ask if you'd like seconds, thirds, how school was, if you'd heard about the parade next week and if you'd like to go with their family, that Miguel was going to be marching in it alongside the other police officers and Violet just couldn't wait to see her dad all dressed up and mounted on a horse. Mr. Garcia jokes that he'd rather go through the police academy a second time before he would learn how to ride a horse again for the parade. The house is smaller than yours but so much friendlier that the difference almost makes you cry. Violet's little siblings are loud but compared to the cold silence of your house, broken only when your parents get into an argument, you'd take it any day. You'd almost be jealous but you just feel so at home there that it's impossible. You spend so long there that Mrs. Garcia - she keeps asking you to use her name and you're trying but it's hard and scary because you don't do that with adults, Mother always told you not to - frets about your parents worrying as she drives you home. You say goodbye to Violet and her mom before watching them drive away. Inside your mother doesn't even look up from the television as you pass by.

You start spending a lot of time at Violet's house.

You're seven and Mother finally noticed you for long enough to tell you not to talk to Violet anymore so you keep doing it. You have to be secret though so you can't meet her after school. You spend time in the library instead, and that's where you pick up your first comic book. You're hooked within minutes, and when you eagerly share your discovery with Violet she loves them too. They become all she'll talk about but that's okay because you can enjoy them with her and find new ones to share with each other. Your favorite is Iron Man, but you like Spiderman and Super Woman and Poison Ivy too, even though she's a villain. When you ask Violet who her favorite is she immediately answers,

“Batman, of course!”

“Why him?” you ask.

She takes only a moment before saying, “He’s only mean to the bad guys, and he's nice, and he always does the right thing no matter what. He's like you!”

“Huh?”

“‘Cause you're nice!”

You can't decide if that statement makes you more happy or embarrassed, so you settle on changing the subject and replaying the memory in your head sometimes when no one is around.

You're eight and your second grade teacher ignores Violet in class. It usually isn't a problem, because Violet likes to be quiet but when she talks about snakes one day in a biology lesson you can feel Violet's interest perk up. She raises her hand to answer the question and instead the teacher picks you. You tell her that you don't know but Violet might, and when she calls on her Violet spends a joyous twenty seconds gushing about how cool snakes are because they don't have legs or feet and they move with only their muscles instead of legs- before the teacher cuts her off and moves on. A few weeks later the school has a group of animal trainers show up with a variety of snakes, lizards and turtles. Violet and the man with the huge yellow and white snake spend most of the three hours that they're there talking about the snakes - including that one he's holding, which you find out is an albino ball python - their care, the many different breeds and the sad fact that many people get snakes and can't care for them. Afterwards he tells your teacher that Violet's one of the best kids he's ever met, and that he's impressed by her knowledge of snakes. You think that's the happiest you'd ever seen Violet. She talks about being a snake breeder someday, and you go to the library and cram your head with knowledge of snakes so her face will light up like that when she speaks to you too. She's almost rendered speechless with happiness when you use your meager hours of reading to start a conversation that lasts hours and is mostly supplied by her. (You’re pretty sure she figured out you didn’t know much after your first few sentences, but she didn’t call you an idiot and she was still happy so that’s okay even if you can’t be just like the guy with the snakes.)

You're eight and a half and it's a warm autumn afternoon when you come home from daycare to find your mother hidden up a tree armed with a vase and muttering about how They were going to come and take her away. She won't come down and she won't talk to you and it's only when Father comes home that he makes you leave before he has men come to force her down and some other man does something that makes her go to sleep. You're told not to talk about what happened. You tell Violet anyways, and you know that she told her parents because the next time you come over Mrs. Garcia gives you a big, soft hug and Mr. Garcia goes out of his way to make sure that you spend the entire night laughing.

You're eight and three quarters and it's become common enough that you can ignore it when Mother stares at something that isn't there or starts talking about Them again. Father tells her to stop being ridiculous and grow up. One time you catch her staring at a bottle of pain pills in the bathroom and you think that maybe she's actually seeing them instead of Them.

You're nine and The Episode never happened and you're not allowed to say a word about unusual things to anyone, ever. Every day before you leave one of the guards hands Mother a small white cup and some water, and she takes both and opens her mouth for him to see before he’ll go. That's the year that your grandmother dies and you didn't know her very well but Mother’s having one of her good days and she tells you that grandmother has gone to a better place now. You ask her if she wants to go to that better place and she laughs, once, sharply, before saying she wishes she could. Miss Garcia seems sad when you tell her about your grandmother and somehow you telling her you don't care because you never knew her makes her more sad. You like the hugs she gives you but it makes you feel guilty that she's sad because of you.

You're ten and your Father takes notice long enough to tell you that you're a man now three weeks after your birthday. You wonder if that's a good thing. Your mother either doesn't notice or doesn't care, nor does she notice when you try the alcohol she's constantly drowned in. It burns your throat and makes you cough. Violet's dad says his drinks aren't for kids and offers you those brightly colored drinks he calls aguas frescas. You sip it and think maybe you wish that he was your dad too.

You're eleven and suddenly you tower over Violet and the girls who used to laugh at your jokes like they were actually funny start laughing like they know something that you don't. The looks that they give you do strange things to your insides, and you don't think that you like that. Violet doesn't do that though. Violet laughs just like she always has and if you do well enough sometimes she’ll laugh until she cries. You start noticing her in ways you didn't before. She's got really pretty brown eyes that remind you of the tree the two of you spend time playing in, on, and around and when they catch the light just right you can see the little black circle in them like it's some kind of secret you could only catch a glimpse of if you were lucky. Her skin is soft and dark and smooth, and her hair is always in a long, shiny braid. A few of other girls can already apply expert makeup but when she tries one day, a little clumsily with mascara smudged under her eyebrow you think she's the most beautiful person you've ever seen. You can't tell her that though, so you just say she looks nice and fix the stray mascara before Louis and Jordan notice and make fun of her for it.

You're just about to turn twelve and you catch a cold. Even when your fever is so high you can't walk straight you go to class because you have to, because you're a failure if you don't. Luckily Violet isn't in your class or she would notice and get mad at you. You pass out in math class and when you wake up you're surprised to find Mother there. She takes care of you for the entire week, even though Father never shows up. Mother is a little clumsy with her care but it's the thought that counts and if it's a hallucination caused by the fever then you never want it to end.

It does. You get better, and Mother gets worse. She can't stand still, she's constantly nervous and one day, after the guard leaves, you catch her spitting into the sink. A week later she disappears.

Mother has been gone for an entire month without calling. You don't know where she went and He doesn't seem to care. The schedule is unbroken.

You didn't like Mother, not always. But sometimes she did little things - ran a hand through your hair, told you she was proud of your test scores, encouraged you to try a new sport or book. And she took care of you when she was sick, something Father has never and would never do. You don't understand why he won't look for her, or why your teacher says ‘I'm sorry’, or why Mr. and Mrs. Garcia let you have a week long sleepover at their house, or why they look so sad. Mother needs to be found, right?

It's a whole two months and one ignored birthday later that you discover she'd been found on the first day she'd gone ‘missing’. It’s not your father that tells you, but an overheard conversation between a new employee and the old ones. Father doesn’t deny it when you barge into his study. He says she killed herself because she wasn't prepared to have a child. For the first time, you argue with him. For the millionth time he doesn't seem to care at all.

“I'm not the reason Mother is dead!”

“I am not interested in continuing this conversation.”

“But I-”

“Your room. Now. I do not want to see you for the rest of the night.”

You sullenly stalk to your room but refuse to accept his accusations. You hadn't killed your mother. The monsters had. The monsters followed her and people like her around, and she always insisted that they were real even though Father said they were hallucinations, but what did he know?

One day after that you remember an old myth, and realize that you can redeem your continued existence, prove to everyone how great Violet is and save people like your mother all at the same time.

It's four days later when you sneak out of the house and meet up with Violet on the edge of the forest. You steal Father’s antique gun as you leave, the cowboy hat Mr. Garcia had given you as a gift last Christmas that looks just like the one from the movie you love already on your head. Violet says her dad keeps his guns in a vault in his room and the knives are up high so her littlest brother can’t get to them by accident, so she has her mom’s favorite frying pan and her lucky necklace around her neck. The night is scary, and several times you swear you see something tall and white moving through the trees but the whatever it is doesn't stop you so you hold onto Violet’s hand tighter and keep going. Together you fall into the hole in the ground, and together you meet your first monster.

Her name is Toriel and she acts nice but you know better. She says not to leave the Ruins, that the others are dangerous, that you're safe there. She's lying. You wonder if she was one of the ones who tormented your mother, and decide that it doesn't matter because if not then she was probably out haunting someone else. But Violet won't listen, and you sprained your ankle when you fell so you have no choice but to stay.

It's a week later and Violet has begun serious complaints about not having her parents around. You can understand why - you miss the Garcias too. You just hope that they'll understand why you asked Violet to come along. Toriel seems content to trap you here, and you think that maybe she's some kind of guardian, here to keep you from hunting the rest of the monsters. A tiny seed of doubt has sprung up in your mind that you have to remember to squish every time it reminds you that it’s there.

When Violet says that she wants to leave Toriel alive, you agree without hesitation. Violet doesn't really get it, doesn't understand why the monsters must die, and if you insist on killing Toriel you're pretty sure she'll rebel. So you agree and silently swear to return and decide if Toriel is really as kind as she'd thought.

Toriel leaves, and you're outside. There's snow somehow and a warm, soft hand in your own. The next monsters you meet look like dogs. One comes after you with an axe, an apology on his snout and you use the gun you brought to shoot him. The dust is all of the information that you need to confirm the monsters are the same as those that haunted your mother - hadn't she said she could kill them and they would just disappear?

You’re still looking at the dust on the snow when something flies past you. You look up and see another dog monster, this one with a bow and arrow, but since when has medieval weaponry ever been a match for a gun? She falls easily, and you look around for Violet to make sure she’s with you before you move on. For just a second you think that Violet has left you when you see nothing.

A choked gasp from the ground draws your attention and you fall to your knees by none other than Violet. The dog monster hadn’t been aiming for you. Her arrow had hit Violet in the center of her chest and now there’s blood everywhere, and Violet’s making these little pained sounds, and her breathing is funny.

“V-violet?” you whisper, staring in horror. Her hand twitches and you grab it in your own, whispering reassurances you don’t know that you can keep.

“James…. no….. more….” Violet says between coughs, blood leaving her mouth.

“No more what?” you ask. “Violet? Violet, no more what? VIOLET!”

You scream and scream, but Violet’s glazed over eyes don’t look at you.

You don’t know how long you kneel in the snow before your hands seem to move of their own accord. You place Violet’s hands on her chest, folded just like Grandmother’s had been. You close her eyes and attempt to close her jaw, only succeeding when you move her head to the side. Then you get to your feet and grab the gun. Before you leave, you scratch a message into the snow, wishing somehow you could let the Garcias have their daughter’s body to bury.

Here lies Violet, who wouldn’t ever have hurt anyone. I’m so sorry Vi.

Now you feel nothing. You’re colder than the snow around you, and revenge must be taken. Other monsters fall to your bullets and you feel stronger, feel joy in their passing that's only fitting because these are the things that took Violet from you, the ones who hurt your mother. At the bridge a fish woman tells her children to escape just before you kill her. You don’t catch up in time to get the children before they’re gone.

And then there was a skeleton and another fish only this one has legs, and for whatever reason you think that they’re college students like the ones that had scared Violet - and you, even if you never said so. These two were waiting for you. The fight is a blur of blue and green and white and pain. You don’t know when you lose the gun but you do know you’re on defense and losing quickly. You think that maybe you deserve it when the fish woman backs you up against a wall that wasn’t there a moment ago and kills you with a spear. Your last living thought is that you won’t even be able to see Violet in death, because she’s going to Heaven and if anyone has earned Hell it’s you.

Only now you're dead and so is Violet and so are those monsters and you can't help but think that maybe if you'd just been better, been the kind of person people like that they'd still be alive. You think about the fish kids whose mother you killed, and the sweet goat woman who let you stay with her without knowing your plans and you hate yourself.

You think about Mother, and you know she probably killed herself because you existed.

You think about Father and wonder if he ever even noticed you were missing, and you think he probably didn't because he knew from the moment that you were born that you were a criminal waste of space and resources.

But mostly you think about Violet, with her pretty smile and her too nice family and her snakes and wish you'd never met her because she'd have been better off without you.

 

 

_You surface for only a moment, voices in the background shouting._

“- mean, you haven’t finished this yet?!”

“I’M the one in charge here! You can’t even do anything without me!”

“And your plan doesn’t work without ME!”

 _A painful attack sends you flying into a soul - they’ve got to be souls, the children’s souls - as another voice says,_ “This is MY plan you ungrateful little-”

 

  
You’ve known you were different for as long as you can remember. Mom said you were autistic, and you said okay. You’d been little, so you hadn’t known that people thought that was a bad word like the ones Dad said sometimes that had Mom scolding him even though she was also usually laughing. It hadn’t taken long to figure out when you’d stood next to Mom as the preschool teacher told her the ‘bad news’ under her breath.

You haven’t seen Mom so mad before or since. You’d never gone back to that preschool.

Despite things like that you’re pretty sure that you had a good childhood. You were the oldest of three kids, and your parents loved all of you. Other kids could be mean, and when you started out in first grade you didn’t have any friends, but it didn’t stay that way. Maybe that’s why you don’t remember much until you were nine or so. Your life wasn’t one with any big, life changing events. Your earliest memories are mostly of your best friend, James.

You’re playing by yourself on the swings when he approaches. A boy your age with scuffed knees and weirdly neat hair. You’re pretty sure that he’s in your class.

“Can I have the swing?” he asks.

“No. I’m using it,” you reply.

“Oh.” He looks disappointed for a moment before he brightens. “Hey, what if I push you? And then you push me, like a trade!”

You take a moment to think on the Very Serious business of making a deal. “Okay, but only if you promise,” you say, holding out your pinky.

He finishes the gesture, tying your pinkies together with dirt and the weird stickiness of the rubber on the swings that you think is probably there to stop you and the other kids from pinching their fingers in the chains.

It isn’t until later, waiting for your mom to come pick you up, that you find out that his name is James, and he’s got special permission to walk home. He stays there talking to you until your mom shows up, waving as he walks away.

James is already there when you arrive the next day, kicking the planter wall he’s sitting on as he waits. He smiles and hops down as you approach. “Hello!”

“Hi,” you say.

“Is that your mom?” he asks, looking around you to the car that’s slowly making its way out of the parking lot.

“No, it’s my dad. He’s going to work late because Mom went in early.”

“Your mom goes to work? That’s so weird,” he says, sitting back down.

You sit next to him. “Nuh-uh. Everybody’s moms go to work.”

“Mine doesn’t.”

“Oh.”

“Do you like orange juice?” he asks suddenly, digging through his backpack. “It’s the only juice we had but I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you bring it then?”

“My mom said I had to or I’d make her look like a bad parent.”

You’re pretty sure moms aren’t supposed to say that, but the next second you’re distracted by him shoving his juice at you. The teacher arrives a few minutes later and lets everybody in, and you don’t hear from James again until break, when he races over to the swings and then waves to gesture you over.

“There are two today! Do you want to swing with me?”

“I don’t think you can swing together,” you point out, but you still take the swing.

“Of course you can! We’re doing it right now!” he points out.

“I guess you’re right,” you say thoughtfully.

“I know I am. Let’s see who can get the highest!”

“No fair, you got a head start!” you object, but you still win.

The next day James has another orange juice bottle, and the next, and the next. (One day in third grade he confesses to you that he’d actually gotten his mom to buy more just so he could keep giving them to you. James never was very good at making friends.) He doesn’t seem to have any friends either, and when you ask him at the end of the week if he wants to be your friend he lights up and can’t say yes fast enough.

By the end of kindergarten you decide that James is weird, and that’s okay because you are too. He’s been over to your house a few times, and Mom says that you Absolutely Should Not Ever tell him, but his father is a bad person and you are not to go to his house. Later, after his mother’s troubles start, you’ll learn by eavesdropping that his mother was forced to marry his father by their families, and she’s eighteen years younger than him. James doesn’t really talk about his Father, but you know your parents are right about him being bad because sometimes James comes to school with bruises on his arms. When you ask he’ll only say that he did something that made his Father angry.

Your parents like James, and so do Ami and Michael, your little siblings. They love to bug him for stories, and James loves to tell them. He says that he wants to be a writer when he’s older, like the authors he talks about that you’ve never heard of - you’re not sure James has either, since he pronounces their names a little different each time and isn’t sure if Hemingway or Poe wrote ‘A Midsummer’s Night Dream”.

You like James. You do not like most of your classmates. All of them bully you when they can and ignore you when they can’t. One of your proudest memories is when your teacher says that snakes don’t have bones and you tell her that she’s wrong and show her your library book to prove it. It’s satisfying to remember how they’d laughed when you’d first said it and then gone completely silent as the teacher corrected herself. It was only afterwards that they called you a know-it-all, and even if they said it like an insult you knew that they were just jealous.

That same teacher is the one who leads your class to the multipurpose room to see the people who brought the snakes. David, the man who speaks to you about Marshmallow, his albino ball python, is impressed by your knowledge. You decide he’s not like the other adults, and belongs in the Weird category that you and James are in. Marshmallow can join too if she wants.

You’re not really sure how old you are when your parents sit you down and explain what mental illness is. Most of it makes sense, even if some of it doesn’t. You do know it’s related to James’ mother and Them and her pills. It only reconfirms what you’d already known when they tell you that his mother’s illness is apparently triggered by her extreme stress; James’ father is a very bad man.

After that you try to protect him by having him over at your house more often. Mom and Dad agree to help - they’ve been worried for longer than you have, you think, but weren’t sure how to act. James doesn’t catch on - or at least he doesn’t say anything - and even though when you’re dropped off at school together some of the other parents look on disapprovingly, nobody does anything to stop you.

Next year a new girl transfers in, and all of the sudden your bullies become her bullies. It’s… strange to be included for once. They start treating her like the plague, and you’re expected to join in. As far as they’re concerned she’s different, Other, unwanted. You don’t think it’s entirely because she’s the newest member of the class.

The new girl - Sarah Martin - isn’t dumb, but she does believe people too easily. The other students quickly find out that she’s a huge fan of some celebrity and set up a nasty prank. You’re asked to come out to recess and pretend to chase one of your classmates, who with a hat and sunglasses looks somewhat like this celebrity. If Sarah asks, you’re a trying to talk to the celebrity. You’re so glad to be included for once that you agree instantly. You later wonder what James would have said to the other kids if he hadn’t been out with the flu.

That day the prank is set up in the morning, all of your fellow students gossiping about the ‘celebrity’ who will be coming by. Sarah hears ‘by accident’ and is practically bouncing in her seat all morning. At recess everyone streams out of the building and your fake celebrity begins running away. Everyone follows, and you begin to chase-

You don’t make it ten feet before the guilt grounds your feet. This is wrong, and you know it. You stand off to the side, and you don’t know what to do. The teachers won’t help - you’ve tried going to them for your own bullying and gotten brushed off. You get the feeling that the teachers don’t think much of you either. And…. it feels wrong even thinking it, but shouldn’t you look out for yourself? You’re finally allowed peace after years of teasing. If you do anything you’re going to have a target on your head again.

In the end you reach the inevitable conclusion. You tell Sarah what’s going on, she gets angry and shouts at your fellow classmates, and that puts an end to their pranks. You’re back to being the least liked of your class. You don’t regret what you’ve done, but you’d be sad about your classmates if it weren’t for James, who comes back a few days later and says he wishes he’d been there to stand up for Sarah with you. It’s only a few days later that Sarah stops coming to class entirely. Your teacher announces that she’s been moved to a different school. You silently wish her luck in finding nicer classmates.

Eventually fifth grade comes around and the girls are given the ‘talk’. Having already had this same conversation with your mother you’re hugely confused by the almost complete lack of information. You also don’t understand why it’s treated like a taboo subject, and say as much to James.

“That’s a good question,” he decides after a few minutes. “I’m actually not sure.”

“Really? I was hoping you knew. Maybe the teachers just like not making sense.”

“Maybe.”

“So wait, have your parents already talked to you about that kind of stuff?”

James blushes bright red - you thank your darker skin for hiding your embarrassment better - and shakes his head. “I know a little from the other guys, but my parents don’t talk about that kinda stuff.”

“That’s weird.”

James shrugs. “I guess, but if they’re not talking to me then they’re not yelling either. I prefer it when they ignore me.”

You don’t like how James gets when he discusses his parents. “I guess.”

When you’re in sixth grade your teacher talks a lot about how you’ll be going on to junior high school soon. You’re nervous, but more than that you’re excited. A new school means new potential friends, and your teacher even says that you’ll be able to choose some of your classes! You know that there won’t be any about your special interests - that’s what Mom calls your love for snakes and comics - but that doesn’t mean you can’t find new interests! You can’t wait to finish the year.

Then James comes to school and tells you that his mother is missing. He says that she must have run away from his Father, but he doesn’t know where she went. It’s never happened before. Neither of you can come up with a good reason for that to have changed now.

You go home and mention it to your parents at the dinner table. Your mom begins to speak and is cut off by your dad, who asks Ami about preschool. After dinner mom and dad go into their bedroom and shut the door, and if you pay attention you can hear them talking in hushed voices. Your mom sounds angry, which scares you because Mom is never angry. She’s the calm one.

You’re doing your homework when your dad knocks on your door and lets himself in.

“Hey pumpkin, you working on homework?” he asks.

“Yes. I’m almost done though.”

“Would you mind putting it down for a minute and talking to Mom and I?

You agree and follow him into their bedroom, where Mom is sitting on the bed with a sad look on her face. She gestures for you to take a seat while your dad stays standing.

“Violet… We - that is, your father and I - feel that there is something that you should know, but we can only tell you if you swear not to tell James or your younger siblings,” she begins, fixing you with a stern look.

“But why can’t I tell him?”

“If we’re right, then his father won’t tell him the truth. This is something that James absolutely has to hear from his father, okay?” your dad asks.

“I don’t like lying to James,” you say.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t tell you if you won’t promise not to tell him.”

“But why?”

“Because we said so. I’m sorry, but you’ll understand when you’re older, Vi,” Dad says.

“Okay. I won’t tell him,” you promise, still uncertain.

“Violet… James’ mother won’t be coming back,” Mom says gently.

“Isn’t she just on a vacation? James says she takes a lot of those.”

“No sweetheart, she’s not on a vacation. She’s…. Do you remember great grandma Grace’s funeral?” Mom asks.

“Yeah?”

“James’ mother has gone to the same place that she has.”

“But James said that his Father said that she was going to be back from her vacation!”

Your dad leans over and hugs you. “We know, sweetheart. His Father is lying.”

“But then why can’t I tell him? Won’t James want to attend the funeral?”

“She’s already buried. The autopsy-”

“Miguel,” Mom quickly interrupts, “I don’t think that part of the story is necessary.”

“Oh, right,” he says sheepishly.

“I promised not to tell James… But I don’t like it,” you confess.

“We know, sweetheart,” Mom says. “You do trust your parents though?”

“Yeah.”

“Then trust that we know best.”

You’d promised, and so James never hears about it from you. A month later you arrive at school to find him pacing out front.

“Are you okay?” you ask. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” he says, distracted. “It’s Father. C’mon, I don’t want to talk about it out here.”

He leads you to the spot that you two always go to at recess. He plucks at the grass while you wait patiently for him to talk.

“Mother’s dead,” he says abruptly.

“How did you find out?” you ask.

“Some of the workers were gossiping. Father just confirmed it. He doesn’t even care!” James shouts, punching the ground.

“I’m sorry,” you offer. “How’d it happen?”

James goes silent, and it’s with shock that you notice he’s crying. He hasn’t cried in front of you since first grade. You freeze, uncertainty taking over. As you debate internally, he speaks again, voice rough from trying to hold back tears. “She… s-she did it h-h-herself.”

By the end of the sentence it’s hard to understand him past the tears. The memory of your mother comforting you by holding you and rubbing your back surfaces. You move to imitate her and James melts into you, sobbing and trying to apologize. You do your best to comfort him.

You’re both late for class, but once the teacher sees James’ red eyes and face he turns right back around and starts talking to the class again.

That afternoon, James tells you his plan. You’re going to go find the monsters, and you’re going to stop them from hurting anyone like they’d hurt his mother. You don’t remind him that his mother had been a bad person, or that your parents would never approve. Instead you swallow your doubts and tell him that both of your parents will be asleep early four days from now.

That night you stealthily grab Mom’s best frying pan, making a silent promise to return it. The forest where you meet with James is only ten minutes from your house, but in the darkness the comfort of home seems like it’s in another country entirely. You reach out for James’ hand and he gives it a comforting squeeze before he’s leading you upwards.

When James hurts his ankle falling you’re afraid that you’re doomed. The huge goat women finds you not long after, and you’re confused. If she’s one of the monsters who hurt James’ mother, why was she helping you?

Throughout the week that you spend with Toriel James continues insisting that she’s lying, that it’s a trick. You trust James. You trust your parents, who had always told you stories of clever monsters hiding behind masks.

Still your doubts plague you. You start prodding James to leave, hoping that he’ll leave Toriel alone if he can get rid of the real monsters that she speaks of that are right outside. He agrees, albeit reluctantly. As you leave, you hesitate, staring at the apron that you and Toriel had made together. She was fun to bake with…

You take your apron with you, and luckily James doesn’t say anything. You hope that beyond the door will be real monsters for him to get rid of.

This is wrong. You know it as you watch the first dog monster turn to a silvery dust, really should’ve known it the second James had said his plan would involve killing. You have to stop this. For him, and for all of these monsters.

You’re just reaching for James’ shoulder when blinding pain sprouts in your chest. You try to speak but it comes out as a small whimper overpowered by the bang of James’ Father’s gun as you fall.

James is there moments later, hands enveloping your hand, but it hurts, it hurts so badly. Message, you’d had to tell him something, it’s important.

You cough past the fluid filling your lungs, ignoring it as it spills down your cheek. “James…. no… more…”

Oh, the pain is fading. You’ve got to stay awake for just a moment more though, James is speaking. He doesn’t understand…? You should clarify….

You wake up to nothingness, confused. Where is James? Where are you? Who had healed you? Are you in a hospital?

It only takes a few ‘shouts’ before you come to the conclusion that you must have died. Was this Purgatory then? Would James be here soon? You really hope not… But then again your friend hadn’t been in the safest position when you’d left.

You settle yourself down to wait. Surely you’d be out of here soon.

 

You’re really not sure how long it takes before you hear it. The voice whispers to you, Join me.

 _No_ , you think. _I don’t know you, and I don’t want to._

Join me.

_No._

Join me.

_No!_

Then **suffer**.

You’re suddenly being crushed underneath remorse, guilt, sorrow, hatred, negative emotions of all types crushing you underneath their weight. You just barely catch a whisper of what you swear is James’ voice before you’re gone.

What feels like an eternity later, you’re suddenly back. There’s a kid with short brown hair who’s about your age reaching out, offering Mercy and asking for help. You don’t know why they need help, but you think that maybe you should offer it. They look thin and hungry - you wish you could cook them something to eat.

Their voice is stronger as they thank you for the help, and then they’re gone. You can feel others you don’t know, but you’re distracted as soon as you feel James nearby. You can’t hear his voice, can’t see him, but you somehow know he’s there and you can feel that he is aware of you. He feels guilty and sad, and you wish you could comfort him. Where are you?

Something breaks, and something else puts it back together, differently than it was before. You’re alone again. What…?

You’ve almost decided that it was a dream before it happens again, only a little bit different. The kid calls out, and you remember them. You fight the thing stealing your energy, and before long you feel them change too. They’re hurting, you realize. Whatever it is that is using your spirit or soul is very sad and lonely.

 _Will you help me?_ it asks, and its voice is a nice, soft whisper.

_Yes._

You’re instantly drained of almost all energy, barely alert. A few moments later you can feel yourself being released, and somehow you’re drifting… somewhere…..

  
You wake up. There’s nothingness all around.

You help fight.

You leave.

You wake up.

  
Eventually you stop fighting, just kind of shutting down and lending your energy where it’s asked for. You’re tired. If this is Purgatory, you really want to leave.

 

_You’re out of Violet’s thoughts, her apathetic spirit clashing with the intense panic you’re feeling. The voices are still arguing, but Flowey seems to be losing._

“- I’m in charge!” _he whines._

“Yeah, and I volunteered to help, so how’s about you work on getting us out of here and I focus on breaking them?” _That voice you don’t know, haven’t heard before. So why does it now feel familiar?_

“.... Fine, whatever,” _Flowey huffs._

“Good. Now, as for you,” _the other says, and you can practically feel the icy hate rolling off of it._

_I…_

“Shut up. Let me show you what these monsters you love so much are really like,” _it hisses, and you’re too weak to protest._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Some serious autistic hate, implied child abuse (physical and emotional/psychological abuse specifically), a character with psychosis (hope that's the right way to phrase that...), elementary school bullying, kids being little shits, kids dying, kids feeling responsible for adult's problems, dehumanizing terms for autistic individual, awful treatment of a mentally ill adult, referenced suicide, mentioned suicidal thoughts. I think that's everything but I am so tired.
> 
> James' mother is a complex character, and tbh would have been a great mother if she hadn't been forced to become one too early and with a husband who didn't care about her or the child. That aside, she does neglect James even if she was trying a bit harder towards the end of her life. Like I said, complex character.
> 
> If anyone was curious the whole thing with the girl being tricked into believing that there was a celebrity on campus actually happened in my elementary school. I'm happy to say that my actions were the same that Violet took. No idea why but the kids in my elementary were a bunch of little shits. Not gonna lie, based a lot of Violet's difficulties on my own in elementary, but don't worry, she's almost completely different in all other regards.
> 
> I'm so tired guys why am I still awake  
> I want to write more but it's 3:30 and I have things to do at noon today  
> Help
> 
> Oh also, I've decided to go ahead with the character takeover on my blog once this story is done. Since I'm hoping to finish some time during summer break I figure that'll all line up perfectly.
> 
> Who's the new mystery character? ~Nobody knows~  
> I lied I'm sure you all can guess


	55. That Nagging Feeling That The World Is Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! Even if finals came pretty close.
> 
> This chapter fought me tooth and nail and I'm not entirely sure I like it, but for the life of me I can't figure out how to fix it and I think it's high time I put out a new chapter, so here it is.
> 
> Aas has become the norm, there are extra trigger warnings at the end of the chapter.
> 
> (Also, anything that is within these '' and in italics are Ferrin's thoughts)

She’s awake, but she doesn’t need to open her eyes to know the house is still dark, the kitchen not yet busy with Papyrus making breakfast. For a few seconds, Ferrin assumes that a nightmare woke her up. It certainly wouldn't be the first these past few nights, but it is strangely vague in her mind, unlike the clear cut images she's used to.

She turns over, determined to fall back asleep, but for some reason her heart is speeding up, the panic building. Why…?

“Alphys might work faster,” a high, shaking voice declares dismissively, “But the old Royal Scientist, Doctor W.D. Gaster?”

Ferrin jolts to attention, drawing her feet up and away from the glitching grey shape standing a few feet away. They look to be a cat-like monster dressed in what might be a lab coat, their face entirely black. They seem unable to stay still, and the world seems unable to understand how they move. Each minor twitch leads to them glitching out of and back into existence, the movement completed by the time they’re visible again. In their hand, cradled to their chest possessively, is a white object that looks disturbingly like a skull.

“W-what are you doing here?” Ferrin demands. The panic is making thinking hard, her brain scrambling to find a reason for the fear that's so much worse than it had been when dealing with the other glitched out monsters.

The figure pauses for too long before continuing in a conspiratory tone, “One day he just vanished without a trace. They say he shattered across time and space.”

The words send cold, grasping fingers down her spine, freezing her breath and any rational thought that had been present in her mind. Something is wrong, world endingly unfixable wrong and it's being caused by the thing before her.

“Stop it! Whatever you're doing, cut it out!” Ferrin wants to run, anything to get away from this thing and the animal instinct clawing at her insides, but her body won't obey, frozen in place.

The figure laughs, high and panic-y. “How can I say so without fear? Why…” The monster disappears for a half second longer than normal and then reappears not a foot from Ferrin, looming over her with a jagged white smile that she can now see is its only facial feature. “I’m holding a piece of him right here.”

Ferrin’s entire being is screaming at her to run but it's like her body is sculpted ice. Her breathing is fast and shallow, wide eyes focused on the monster as it looms, threatening, above her. The worst part is that she’s alone, not even Chara’s voice there to help her.

_‘Someone, help me!’_

 

  
Sans is not a morning person. In his opinion no one should be awake before nine, and that only if absolutely necessary. He also isn't easily woken up once he is asleep, especially after a late night like the one he's just had.

The sound of screaming from downstairs and his brother's bone attacks hitting the wall? That was enough to get him up.

He grabs ahold of his magic and a moment later he's in the hallway. He'd planned to make sure his brother was awake by knocking on his door - you don’t risk someone attacking you while stuck in a nightmare when you’ve only got 1 HP after all - but the scene downstairs instantly gets his full attention.

Some… thing is leaning over Ferrin. He'd think it was a monster if he didn't know better. The memories are about as solid as the patches of mist around a waterfall, but he knows enough.

“Hey bud,” Sans says, appearing behind the monster in time for them to cut out of existence to look up at where he had been. “I don't think she much cares for that.”

He grabs ahold of the fragile piece of soul he can just barely detect and sends it crashing to the floor.

Unfortunately the monster didn't follow. They blink out of existence only to return looming over Sans. “Did you really think that would work?”

Sans teleports away, watching from behind the couch as the floor is slashed apart under attacks his mind can't seem to comprehend. If he doesn't look at them directly he can almost see something that might be claws.

“Leave them alone,” Sans says darkly.

“And if I do, will they stop? Will I get to live?” the other monster hisses.

Sans might not be able to see their attack, but he can feel them gathering their magic. Reality warps around them and they strike, their attack finding only empty air. Sans appears behind them, causing them to panic and vanish, reappearing clear on the other side of the room. They attack again, and the process repeats itself.

As the fight - although it can barely be called that when one party can't be defeated and the other has done almost this same thing more times than he cares to count - continues, Sans’ mind races. He already knows this thing won't take damage no matter what he does. It isn't even really a monster any more, more of a faded memory clinging to life by the tips of its claws. As for how he knows that he decides, much like too many other things, that it isn't important. Blasters in the house were a no go - he'd risk bringing the roof down on his brother and Ferrin, and he's having enough difficulty keeping her out of this as is.

So it's impossible then. Not exactly new, eh?

Sans grins wryly, taking a step into oblivion and back out to stand on the stairs.

“Stop dodging!” the other shrieks.

“Nah.”

His word is met with a screech like glass on metal and an attack he dodges with ease. Out of the void, taunt, into the void, maybe an attack or two to make sure that the other doesn't know he's trying to buy time to think. It's just missing the golden light that drowned out every other color, gold floors, gold bones, gold knife, gold blood on gold tiles.

Then, suddenly, the other monster’s power is halved, the air no longer as oppressively thick. Their attacks grow more desperate but half the time they hit the walls or floor even if he doesn't dodge.

“You losin’ your edge or somethin’?” Sans asks, watching the floor to his right become a little more torn up.

“Shut up shut up shut up!”

Sans has just avoided an attack that tears the back of the couch open when he sees a figure run past the living room window. The front door is kicked open, adding yet more damage to the house. Averia follows right after, eye lights sweeping over the scene and coming to rest on the glitching monster.

“Fucker,” she growls. The frantic attack the other monster sends her way is blocked, bones appearing in a cloud over her head. They fly towards the glitch and it reels back, but when Sans checks its HP he sees it's a glitching mess of numbers, flickering from one to the other with no discernable pattern. So he had been right, somehow.

“Those aren't gonna do anything,” he says.

“I noticed! You got a better idea?” Averia demands, sending waves of bone through the anomaly.

“I wasn't there for the other ones.”

“The soul, where's it's soul?”

“No no no no no!” the glitch howls, sending out a flurry of attacks that nearly catch Sans and manage to clip Averia. They both find themselves with their backs to the wall, watching as the other monster screeches.

“You can't make me! I won't die! I won't! Leave me alone!” it screams, attacks flying everywhere.

Sans is still taking small shortcuts to avoid all of the attacks when Papyrus bursts through the door to his room. He looks panicked, gaze flying through the mess in front of him as he tries to figure it out. He only sees Sans when he appears directly in front of him.

“Brother! What is going on?!”

“Too much to explain,” Sans says shortly. “Just lemme-”

“Got it!” Averia shouts, holding up a glowing hand from where she'd been hiding behind the couch.

A wordless howl follows her declaration, despair and bone chilling fear wrapped into one. The house falls suddenly silent, the only thing breaking the quiet Ferrin’s gasping for air. The glitch has disappeared, leaving behind destruction and a strange silence that Sans realizes is the absence of the almost indiscernible sound that had accompanied it.

A movement in his peripheral vision draws his attention back to Papyrus, who is trying to dash tears from his eyes before anyone can notice. Everything else might be too confusing to comprehend at who-the-fuck-knows what hour of the morning, but this he knows how to handle.

“Papyrus, what’s wrong?” he asks. Averia starts speaking downstairs, quietly enough that he assumes she’s not talking to them and ignores her.

Papyrus won’t quite meet his gaze, shaking his head. “Illusion and trickery, brother. Was that one of those not-monster monsters?”

“Yeah. Did he do somethin’ to you?”

“I… Yes. These things are very good at emotional manipulation. However, I am more concerned for Ferrin.” Papyrus’ expression is slowly draining from fear and confusion to all consuming exhaustion. He looks about ready to drop at any moment.

“Paps, you look ‘bout ready to fall down. You need to go to sleep.”

Papyrus looks half tempted, but shakes his head. “No, I must see to the welfare of my friend before I can relax.”

“And if she’s getting better, you’ll go?”

“I… Yes. I do not know that I would be of much help as I am, in any case.”

Sans bites back a response and follow his brother downstairs. Averia spares them a glance before gesturing for quiet as she continues talking about Gaster. Whatever she’s doing is working, since Ferrin has both quieted down and stopped shaking. Papyrus looks like he’d like to say something, but he instead nods and returns upstairs. He disappears into his room, and Sans hesitates before knocking gently on the open door.

“Ya mind if I come in?” he asks, ignoring the now ingrained urge to make a knock-knock joke.

“That is fine.”

Inside, door closed behind him, Sans can see that Papyrus is seated on his bed, knees pulled to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. He joins him, leaning against the wall with his legs sprawled in front of him.

Sans is expecting to have to break the silence, and is surprised when Papyrus speaks up almost the instant he’s settled in. “Brother? Do you think I am inept? Does Undyne? Have I not proved myself?”

“Paps, nobody thinks that. We all know you’re great.”

“I could not protect Ferrin or myself from Flowey. I did not sense his ill will, I did not realize what ______ was planning or manage to stop them,” Papyrus says, despairing.

“Nobody could protect anyone from Flowey, remember? He was too strong bro. He’s had a lotta time to be a real good liar, and nobody could’ve stopped… _____,” Sans says, trying not to relive that moment when he’d lost you. “Ya can’t fix everything.”

“That answer is not good enough!” Papyrus insists, finally turning angry, tear filled sockets to Sans. “I should be better! I must be! I have to- I should have….”

“Papyrus,” Sans says sharply, catching his brother’s attention with the rarely used strict tone. “You’re amazing bro. You’re more than good enough to be on the Guard, and you’re the best sibling anyone could ask for. But ya can’t fix the world and nobody’s expectin’ you to. We’ve talked ‘bout this before.”

“You say all of this, and yet it does not seem true. I cannot be good enough for the Guard if Undyne will not let me in. I can do nothing for you but nag and push you and you still will not speak with me. You lie to make me happy as you did when I was a child. Am I still that child to you, even now?” Papyrus’ expression is pained, desperate, needing answers.

Sans sighs, soul heavy. “I’m sorry Paps. I’m not half the older brother I should be to you, I know. I tried so hard to be a parent for you when we were little that I forgot I was supposed to be your brother too, and since I gave up you’ve had to be the responsible one. But ya shouldn’t have to be responsible for me, bro.”

“Sans that is not an answer. I want to know if you think I am a child,” Papyrus insists.

“‘Course not. I’ve known you were an adult since before the resets.”

“But you never told me about them, neither this time nor the last.”

“At first I didn’t know for sure what was going on. By the time I was sure I was afraid to tell you because you’d think I was delusional,” Sans says dully.

“Yet you said you did tell me, in some of the resets?”

“You never remembered. It felt pointless when everything was gonna go back to how it was.”

“I still wanted to know!” Papyrus cries. “I may not remember these resets, but I assure you I was worried about you in every one of them! I am your brother, should I not be concerned for your well being when you refuse to speak with me honestly? I am not blind, Sans!”

“Heh. You’ve said that before.”

“That does not make it any less true!” Papyrus says, distraught. “Why do you not trust me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you. What if you did remember, huh? What if you’d ended up like me? Lazy and useless, all because I knew everything was stuck on repeat,” Sans spits, angry, but mostly with himself.

“Do not call yourself useless!”

“D’ya have a better word for an idiot who can’t do shit? Who gave up on saving his brother?”

“Yes! Overburdened! You are attempting to carry the underground on your shoulders alone,” Papyrus insists.

Sans refuses to meet his earnest gaze. “Look, we didn’t come up here to talk ‘bout me-”

“I certainly did. Do you know what I fear the most, brother?”

“Uh, no?” Sans says, confused by the sudden turn in the conversation.

“That one day I will come home, and you will be dust by your own hand,” Papyrus says, quiet and sad. “All because I do not know how to help, or even to get you to speak with me.”

“I’d never leave you by yourself like that,” Sans insists. Lies.

“Really?” Papyrus asks. “I may not remember these resets, but I have these vivid, all too real dreams where you have done exactly that.”

Sans doesn’t respond, doesn’t know how to, because Papyrus is right. He’s done it before, during the resets where everything is too much and he just wants to sleep for the rest of eternity. Denying it again seems cruel.

“I thought so,” Papyrus says quietly. “I was never meant to remember that, was I?”

“I didn’t want ya to,” Sans says, and he knows he’s confirming what Papyrus can only suspect, but he’s so tired of lying.

Papyrus lets out a muffled sob, reaching out and pulling Sans to him like he if he can just keep him there everything will be okay. Sans holds onto him just as tightly, telling him how sorry he is, how much he wishes he could fix this, but he can’t promise he won’t do it again. He can’t make a promise he knows he might not be able to keep twenty, three hundred resets down the line.

“Sans,” Papyrus says, reining in his tears so he can speak, “I know how much you hate promises. And I know that you cannot promise that you will never despair again, because you are not sure if the world will reset again, but please. Please brother, promise me that you will at least try to speak with me first. I do not know if I can stand any more dreams, Sans. Please.”

“I promise,” Sans says instantly. He’s never been able to deny Papyrus, and if he's learned nothing else, the resets have taught him that he's lying to himself if he believes what he's done was for the best. “I can’t promise it’ll always happen, but I’ll try. I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Papyrus says, choking on the words.

They stay like that for a minute longer before Papyrus moves away, wiping his tears away. “Sorry. I should not have-”

“Don’t. It’s fine,” Sans interrupts.

Papyrus hesitates, but nods. “Alright then. Would you mind sleeping downstairs with me? I would like to be near you and Ferrin, I think.”

Sans wastes no time in agreeing, feeling like he has cement blocks weighing his legs and lead in his skull as he takes the blankets Papyrus hands him before they move to leave his room.

Hand on the doorknob, Papyrus pauses. “Sans?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being honest.”

“..... Yeah,” Sans says, wishing that wasn’t something so rare that Papyrus felt he had to thank him for it.

He makes a silent resolution to be better as the door opens to the dim light of the rest of the house.

 

 

“Ferrin? It’s me, Averia.”

It’s the first thing Ferrin has heard clearly in a while, the crashing and tearing around her having disappeared. She’s still breathing too fast and shallow to talk so she just lets out a high pitched whine, refusing to move from her curled up position on the couch.

“Gonna assume that meant you can hear me. That cat guy is gone now, we got the piece of Gaster’s soul. Sans and Papyrus are okay.”

She knows she should be happy, but her mind is too busy coming up with situations where things go horribly wrong, where more of those things appear and everyone is dying and the house is falling and Flowey is there and-

“Don’t. The threat is gone Ferrin. You are safe. Your friends aren’t going to let you get hurt.”

Through the lack of air and her fear Ferrin manages to choke out, “Scared.”

“Yeah, I know. Hard not to be with all that’s going on.”

Another elongated whine.

“Just keep listening to me, it’s going to be fine. Hey, you want to hear a story about Gaster?” Averia asks, launching straight into the story without pausing for a response. “Let’s see… It was maybe two weeks after I’d first met him, and he was bored out of his mind since he was stuck at my house all day. I was still trying to figure out what to do with him. We’d figured out he wasn’t a fighter, but that was as far as we’d gotten. He didn’t even have a name picked yet, that's how new he was to being a monster.

“Then all of the sudden he shows up in my study shouting about how he’d ‘figured it out’. Turns out he’d snatched some of the coded messages I’d left around the house. It was our most basic code since it was just the coded alphabet we used, but it was what gave me the idea to go talk to our Royal Scientist at the time, Korei. They wanted to hear about what had convinced me to come to him, asked Gaster a couple of questions, but they trusted my judgement.

“Only thing was, when they found out that he didn’t have a name, they decided that the name of the code he’d deciphered would be good enough. And since the creators of the code used their nicknames, he was suddenly Wing Dings.

“I didn't think he'd actually go for it, but as it turned out he liked it. Sure it sounded funny, but being named after a secret code used only by the highest members of the city’s government? Right up his alley. After that all he needed was a last name that sounded official enough for his new job as apprentice to the Royal Scientist and he was good.”

The low, steady cadence of Averia’s voice and the oddly interesting topic are enough of a lifeline to bring Ferrin out of her panic. Her breathing is deeper, less forced, her body slowly unwinding from deer-in-headlights to exhaustion.

“How’d he pick Gaster?” she asks, words shaky and uncertain but clear.

“Mangled one of the surnames in these naming books I had. ‘Aster’ was the original one. Mary always said he should have just used the original version because it sounded more like a ‘real last name’.”

“Mary?”

“She was Gaster’s wife, I might’ve mentioned her before. She was a human girl from one of the nearby cities, tall for a human, blonde hair, hazel eyes. She was married off as a way for her rich ass merchant family to get an in on trade in our city, even if the kings spent a lot of time talking about how it would help human-monster relations. It took her ages to warm up to Dings, but he didn’t exactly help her out by acting cold to hide his fear about the whole thing. Once they started working together though, they were an amazing team. Made me wonder how many other human women could've been geniuses and were forced into housework instead.”

“She sounds… nice,” Ferrin murmurs. She finally looks up, and notes that the room is wrecked. Any other time that might have bothered her, but now it feels like she's looking at a picture instead of reality.

“She was. How’re you doing?”

“Okay. Tired. What happened?”

“Sans and I distracted that monster until I could get the soul piece. He and Papyrus were over here a few minutes ago, but they left once they saw you were alright.”

“So no one else did… that?” she asks, referring to her reaction.

“Nah, but it's nothing to worry about. I think the grey monster was focusing on you for some reason. Maybe they figured you're in charge.”

“Oh.”

Noticing her disappointment in herself, Averia adds, “You've gotta remember we're monsters. We don't have the same reactions you humans do because we're not as physical. I've seen other humans have attacks like that, it's nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I guess so. Should I be feeling this tired?”

“Yeah, and you should get some sleep. Wait here, I'm going to check that the house isn't about to fall down.”

Time is moving strangely, because the next thing Ferrin knows she's being handed a glass of water, then she's lying down as her blanket is thrown back over her. Somehow the lights are out, the room quiet.

She can hear Averia moving away, and she's suddenly aware of how alone she is in the room. “Could you stay?”

She's not sure if the pause is Averia considering her response or trying to come up with an excuse. The sound of a chair being moved across the floor towards her answers her question. Averia settles into the chair and says, “Now, sleep.”

Ferrin tries for a few minutes, but her curiosity gets the better of her. “Averia?”

“That doesn't sound like sleeping.”

“Sorry, just, how’d you know what to do? For me?”

“Long answer short, I knew humans who were dealing with too much to keep it together and I can’t stand sitting there and waiting for someone else to fix a problem.”

“Okay,” Ferrin mutters. She feels like she hasn’t slept in years, but she has to know something else first. “I think I get how these guys work. They get into your head by manipulating you. I don’t know what the first guy was doing, but the second one tried to use our anger against us, and I’d bet this guy was using fear. Am I right?”

Averia responds after a pause. “Yeah, that’d make sense.”

“So how’d you escape it so fast? Why aren’t you afraid?”

This pause is longer, heavier. “There aren’t many who don’t feel fear, and in my experience they're not great fighters for it. Fear's useful. It tells you when something is wrong, when you should be backing down instead of pressing forward. What's important is knowing how to control it.” Somehow, Ferrin can feel that she’s not done speaking, and a minute later she’s proved right. “‘Sides, most of what I was afraid of has already happened. I think it had a hard time coming up with anything.”

Ferrin is still trying to find a response even several minutes later, and is spared by footsteps on the stairs. The vague, shadowy shapes of Papyrus and Sans appear with bundles in their arms that they spread on the floor, creating makeshift beds. They settle in without a word, nearly silent until Papyrus’ voice breaks the silence. He sounds as worn as Ferrin does.

“Are you unharmed, Ferrin, Averia?”

“I’m gonna be okay,” Ferrin says.

“Nothing serious here,” Averia says.

“How about you, Papyrus?” Ferrin asks.

“I too will be alright. I am glad you are not permanently injured. Good night.”

Three quiet responses are the last thing said, everyone at the impromptu sleepover fall asleep not long after as exhaustion gets the best of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings:  
> \- Suicide mention  
> \- Character has a panic attack (based off of the ones I usually experience, if a lot shorter than my usual ones)
> 
> "Leave me alone," shouts the guy who came to terrify people at night in their own home.  
> "Fuck off," says everyone else, understandably.
> 
> I hope this chapter isn't as bad as my brain says it is. Also, does anyone else have trouble with anxiety and certain sounds? There's this radio commercial where the narrator just starts speaking too fast and intense for me, it makes me incredibly anxious and I have to turn it off every time. 
> 
> Here's to hoping that the next chapter wants to work with me, and that summer classes won't kill me.


	56. Final Soul....?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things happen, some things are forgotten, and some never showed up at all.

_Iron and ice and darkness, a soul that feels twisted, wrong._   
  
A car, an old model that looks too new. Grass and gently rolling hills passing by on the right, dense forest blocking the view to the right. A woman with soft brown hair pulled into a ponytail laughing in the front seat, the seat next to her filled with plastic containers covered in bright lids.  
  
“Brendan! Lookie!”   
  
Your view changes, turning to take in a little girl in a flowery dress bouncing in a car seat. She’s so young that the diagonal strap of the seat belt is behind her head so it can’t cover her face. Her pigtails are held up by shiny red ribbons that bob in time with her excited jumping.  
  
“What are you looking at Brooke?” The voice isn’t yours, and it’s too young to be the mother’s. You’re in another memory. Why is this one different?  
  
**Wow, you’re not as dumb as you look!**  
  
You spend a frantic second looking for the voice before you realize that of course it isn’t there with you. It’s the same one as before, and now that you think of it it’s too similar to the other kid - Brendan’s - voice for it to be a coincidence.  
  
**Ooh, looks like we’ve got a real genius here** , the older, current Brendan sneers.  
  
_Why are you doing this?_ you demand.  
  
**If you pay attention, maybe you’ll get the answer. Now shut up.**  
  
Give me answers! you shout - or you try to. You think the words, but they don’t have the odd ring to them that the mental conversations always do. He’d silenced you. You’re aware of yourself, but you’re just as powerless as you’ve been since Ferrin and Papyrus were taken.  
  
You return your attention to the kids, who are now playing I-Spy. Their mother chimes in every once in a while. What’s more interesting is that you’ve just realized you’re very, very familiar with their surroundings. Hard not to recognize the Ebbot mountain range.  
  
The memories don’t skip forward like most of the others, don’t skim over the parts that aren’t directly related to the final few moments of Brendan’s life. Instead you sit and watch as the siblings play their games, envy and sorrow flooding your soul.   
  
The car pulls into the parking lot where you’d parked so long ago - is it even still there, or has it been towed by now? - and the kids jump out, running to join the large group of people milling over the grass. Their mother follows behind, arms loaded down with the food they’d brought. You can’t figure out what the celebration is for, but there are at least fifty adults present, and a number of kids running around underfoot.  
  
Brendan and Brooke are reined in, introduced to people, told to greet neighbors and family friends. Their mother, Elizabeth, apologizes to the other party goers for her husband’s absence, explaining that work had called him in at the last moment. The kids escape adult talk to play with their friends. It’s pleasant, mildly interesting, but you don’t understand why this soul, the soul of patience, is opting to show this to you. This is too different from the other souls, and you don’t trust it for a moment.  
  
You maintain your wariness through many, many games of tag and Red Rover, through lunch and Brendan getting scolded for dropping potato salad on his shorts. He sticks out his tongue at his little sister over his mother’s shoulder, causing her to laugh. You watch as he cuts himself a slice of the cake some neighbor brought along and then pockets the plastic knife he used when he can’t find a trashcan nearby.  
  
And still nothing happens.  
  
Not when the groups at the tables break apart after lunch, nor when the kids start playing hide and seek. You sit there, confused, until suddenly-  
  
“Brendan!” Elizabeth shouts, waving him over. “Have you seen your little sister? She wandered off and I haven’t seen her in a bit.”  
  
“No, Mom.”  
  
“Oh dear… Would you mind looking for her while you kids play? I’m sure she’s somewhere around here, you know how she is.”  
  
“Yes Mom.”  
  
She thanks him and he runs off again, returning immediately to hide and seek. A few rounds later he’s searching through some bushes that he’s certain he heard moving earlier when something catches his eye. He wriggles out from underneath the branches to find a shiny red ribbon caught on one of the lower bushes.  
  
“Brooke? Are you here? You lost one of your ribbons!” he calls. When no one responds he ties it around his wrist and starts walking upwards, calling for his sister every so often.  
  
Something moves in the leaves above him, and he clambers up a small cliff, still shouting for his sister. Instead he finds a small lizard that eyes him for a second before bolting. Sister and other kids forgotten Brendan charges after it. It disappears into the trees no long after, but by then Brendan has already spotted something much more interesting poking up from the dirt. Something white and sharp, out of place, interesting.  
  
He kicks it gingerly, jumping back when it snaps easily. He grabs the plastic knife and pokes at the dislodged shard, picking it up when nothing happens. It’s weird, not like any rock he’s seen before. Lighter, for one. More porous and jagged, for another.  
  
You immediately recognize it as bone. By the shape you’d guess a rib, and it’s certainly not three hundred years old.  
  
You’re glad when the kid decides to drop it instead of keeping it. He looks around, calling for his sister, noticing how far down the sun has gotten. He shivers, rubbing his arms to warm up. Suddenly the scary stories told about this mountain aren’t as funny anymore.  
  
**Snap**.  
  
The sound echoes from behind Brendan, and he screams. When the sound is followed by more cracking, he starts running the other direction. He doesn’t notice when the sounds end following the sound of something relatively heavy falling. He doesn’t notice when he breaks through the trees and into a clearing. He’s too busy looking behind him a moment later to stop himself from falling into the hole in the ground, and then your ears are filled with screaming, foreign terror clawing at your soul. A feeling of slowing, and then a none-too-gentle impact that still isn’t hard enough for the fall Brendan had taken.  
  
He gets up, dusts himself off, calls for help. When none comes, he steels himself and moves onward. The very first puzzle he comes to has him confused. You watch as he looks at the door, checks the buttons, turns back and tries to understand again. Just as he’s gathered the courage to prod at one of the buttons with his foot, it springs open. Behind it is a very large frog with a very strange symbol on its stomach.  
  
“AH!” Brendan shouts.  
  
“AH!” Froggit shouts. “Wait, why are _you_ shouting?”  
  
“W-what?”  
  
“I asked why you were shouting.”  
  
“I…. I dunno? You’re a giant frog?”  
  
“And you are a strange, lost-looking child. Your point?”  
  
“I don’t… know?” Brendan says, knowing there’s a reason to be scared but unable to remember what it was for the life of him.  
  
“Well, if that is done, introductions. I am Froggit. And you?”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you, Froggit. My name is Brendan,” he replies automatically, the manners his mother had taught him kicking in.  
  
“It is my pleasure. What are you doing down here, strange one?”  
  
“I fell. From up above,” he adds, pointing back the way he’d come. “I need to find my sister.”  
  
“I was worried that was the case,” Froggit says solemnly. “You are human. That is… difficult.”  
  
“Difficult?”  
  
“Yes. Do not tell anyone else that you fell from above, nor that you are human. It will not end well. But,” Froggit adds, looking more cheerful, “I can assure you that your sister did not fall down here. You are the first human in a very, very long time.”  
  
“But why can’t anybody know I’m human?”  
  
“They will not understand. They were not born in a time that spoke of the humans who stood with us in the war.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“No matter. You must keep going if you wish to leave. Let me show you.”  
  
Brendan follows the Froggit, trailing behind it as it solves the puzzles you’re already familiar with. This time the memory skips forward, showing Brendan running forward to investigate a bug hanging out on some vines. The Froggit’s frantic “No!” is lost as the dirt under his feet crumbles, dropping him into a small room. He sits up, dazed.  
  
“Are you unharmed?” Froggit calls down.  
  
“I’m okay! I’ll be right back up,” Brendan says, heading for the stairs.  
  
Once up there, Brendan apologizes, the Froggit scolds him, and they move forward.  
  
Another skip and the Froggit and Brendan are standing in the small clearing before Toriel’s home.  
  
“Is that where you live?” Brendan asks.  
  
“No, it is where Toriel lives. She is a very strong monster, and we would do best to avoid her, I think. It is the time of day when she patrols the Ruins and therefore safe. Still, we must hurry.”  
  
Jogging to catch up, Brendan asks, “Is she dangerous?”  
  
“No more so than any other monster. She has attempted to prevent other humans from leaving and if you wish to exit we must do so before she returns.”  
  
Another jump and the two of them are standing in front of the towering doors that mark the beginning of the exit out of the Ruins.  
  
“Are these the doors we need to go through?” Brendan asks.  
  
“They are the doors that you must go through, yes.”  
  
“Aren’t you coming?”  
  
Froggit shakes his head. “My apologies, but it is here that I must leave you. My home and family are here.”  
  
“Oh,” Brendan says, dejected.  
  
“Do not worry, human. There will be others who will be willing to help you. However. Be careful. Not all humans who have found themselves in our home have been peaceful, and many will remember them.”  
  
“Will they try to hurt me?”  
  
“They may, and for crimes not your own. Still, Brendan, if you can find it in your soul… Please, show them mercy.”  
  
Brendan nods, blinking back tears, then kneels down to be face to face with Froggit. “Thank you for your help.”  
  
“You are welcome. Now go before Toriel returns!”  
  
With a final wave goodbye, Brendan darts through the door. A moment later he’s pushing open another large door. The instant the door is cracked open cold seeps into the room and up his exposed legs. Shivering, Brendan steps out into a snow-covered land. He’s confused, probably wondering why it’s winter in early autumn, but he’s still just about to step forward when someone suddenly appears in front of him.  
  
Your heart drops. _No._  
  
**Yes** , older Brendan hisses, furious.  
  
“Hey,” Sans says.   
  
Brendan has moved away, his back pressing hard against the door as he feels for a doorknob where there is none. The door out of the Ruins is, as always, a one way trip.  
  
“H-hi,” he tries.  
  
“So. A human, huh?” Sans asks, rocking back on his heels. His grin is as wide as ever, but you know that expression. You’d first seen it when he thought you hurt Whimsun, and then again when you were confronted by the men in front of the grocery store. He’s furious, and he’s about to do something about it.  
  
“Yeah, so what?” Brendan is defensive, responding to the derogatory tone Sans puts on ‘human’.  
  
“So, I was wonderin’. How many didja kill, huh?”  
  
“What are you-”  
  
“The last two, they got three before they were put down. Four, if ya count Shyren’s sister. Fell down after her mom died. Shyren hasn’t been the same since.”  
  
“I haven’t killed anyone! Please, I just need to find my sister!”  
  
_No, Sans, **no!**_  
  
“ **L i a r.** ”  
  
Five giant skulls, each taller than Brendan, shudder into existence above Sans, blue light filling their gaping maws-  
  
A sharp, bright pain in his chest, and Brendan falls, your connection to him breaking, and you’re suddenly watching from the wrong angle. Part of a tree obscures your view as you watch from behind Sans. The skulls vanished an instant after Brendan fell, but Sans hasn’t moved an inch. A strong cyan glow lights up the snow despite the soul being hidden from view. Your view shifts, as though the viewer is growing impatient.   
  
Finally, Sans moves. He walks slowly, as though there is a weight on his shoulders. When he turns around he has a small cyan heart above one hand, floating there, bound by his magic.   
  
He disappears and so does your vision, but the next moment you’re back, watching through a grimy window. Sans is alone inside, placing the soul in some kind of glass bottle and screwing on the base, flipping it right way up, mechanical. Your vision falls away for good, leaving you with the final sight of him staring, eye sockets blank, at the fruit of his crimes.  
  
**That’s what you died for** , Brendan reminds you, but it doesn’t sound quite like him and you’re not sure it is.  
  
**That’s who you left in charge of keeping your very much human sister and a kid who’s what, two, three years older than he was safe.** You knew he killed Frisk and you thought he’d help them?  
  
Who down there hasn’t been responsible for a child’s death? Asgore and Undyne worked together to make sure everyone hated humans, to kill them before they could escape. You just watched Sans murder a kid. Alphys put up cameras everywhere to make sure she could tell the killers where their prey was, and, worse, experimented on a monster child’s dust. Did you really think she didn’t know? She’s smarter than that. Toriel didn’t really try to put a stop to the kids leaving - why else hadn’t she already collapsed that tunnel? Grillby, Whimsun, Froggit, the River Person, the dogs, Shyren… Papyrus…. aren’t they all benefiting from children dying? And they don’t care. They don’t feel guilty.  
  
**Monsters.**   
  
Monsters, in the truest sense of the word. Creatures that shouldn’t exist, that caused only harm and destruction wherever they went.  
  
And you wanted to help them.  
  
_Idiot_ , Flowey’s voice sneers, but you know it’s really you, condemning your own actions, because who wouldn’t? The kids who would never get to grow up certainly would.  
  
Their memories are straining on your soul now, pushing, fighting for dominance in your thoughts. Your soul is too full, too many flashes of the past mixing, crashing, contending-  
  
Blue spears morph into a small blue face, teary eyes wide in fear. Cold and fear becoming sleepy, warm hope, becoming quiet rage at betrayal. Your memories, your Sans, laughing at a bad pun for the tenth time that day, then cold and pain and fear of the short, blue clad skeleton commanding the deadly skulls staring you down, then a younger, less experienced, but no less deadly version fighting beside beside an older, harder, one eyed Undyne. Asgore offering false hope in one hand, asking for help for his people with the other. Toriel jokingly scolding Frisk, listening for her padded footsteps as you creep along a dark hallway with a reassuring hand holding yours.  
  
_Make it stop!_  
  
A dog like monster you know must be the mother of one of the Snowdin sentries fading into dust. Shyren, screaming for her mother. A small, frightened child dying in the snow for crimes he never committed.  
  
You’re in physical pain, your too full soul unable to handle what it has experienced.  
  
The girl you love lying dead in the snow, innocent of all but association. Once beautiful silk shoes encrusted in silver death. Ferrin, hand outstretched, crying, why did you leave her?  
  
You can’t shove them away, they cling to you like burning oil to your skin, but you’ll die if you stay like this-  
  
Tiny, child-sized coffins lined up one by one, waiting the names they will one day bear. Undyne, a glass container under each arm, trying to look proud as she presents them to a devastated Asgore. Sans, unable to even do that much, leaving the container to be found and then drowning himself in alcohol for a week straight. Alphys, poking and prodding the souls, trying to save her people. They’re guilt-ridden, tearing themselves apart from the inside, and yet… _Guilty_. Murderers and liars, **child killers** and _why don't you hate them_ and if you don’t doesn’t that mean **you’re guilty too** , somehow, because if given the choice ** _you wouldn’t have them persecuted for their crimes._**  
  
And that’s not something you can face, not feelings you can handle so you hide, hide from the truth and the memories that are and aren’t yours and you create the strongest barrier you can between you and them and   
  
you  
  
just  
  
s t o p.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader: Monsters are evil, so, so evil, omg how could I leave two humans in their care???? I am the Worst.  
> Meanwhile, Papyrus and Averia are doing their best to help Ferrin bring Reader back, Sans has lost hope since they died, and everyone else is trying to find and stop Flowey before he can get aboveground and wreck havoc on humanity.
> 
> Yup. So evil. 
> 
> Considering they're being brainwashed though I think we can forgive them this once.
> 
> Also, Brendan is the most recent of the dead kids. This takes place in the early 1990's, about 1993. Don't worry about Brooke, she was discovered covered in cake and giggling underneath one of the benches a few minutes after Brendan disappeared.


	57. To The Labs!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Can everyone pretend this didn't take more than a month?)

Quiet, indistinct voices are speaking somewhere closeby, but Ferrin, drifting in that land between waking and sleep, can’t bring herself to focus on them. She’s convinced if she can just stop thinking for a bit longer, she’ll be able to go back to her dreams.

A hand grips her shoulder and shakes her gently. “Ferrin?”

“Five more minutes,” she groans.

“Absolutely not, it is already two in the afternoon! It is far past time to be awake!” Papyrus declares.

“To be fair, we were up until… Actually, what time was it?” Averia asks.

“I admit that I do not know either,” Papyrus says. “That does not, however, change the fact that it is time for all of us to be awake and enjoying lunch! That includes you, Sans.”

Something just to the side and below her grumbles, sounds that weren’t even trying to be words replying to Papyrus.

“Up, up, up!” Papyrus insists, his voice moving away. “Lunch is nearly ready!”

Ferrin reluctantly cracks open her eyes, glaring at the too bright room. She feels heavy, like sleep is still dragging at her limbs, and her head is simultaneously stuffed with cotton and aching. She sits up and groans. A chuckle to her left turns out to be Averia, who is looking at her in amusement.

“I feel like I got run over by a truck, don’t laugh,” Ferrin gripes.

“No idea what that is, but I know the feeling. You’ll be groggy all day but you’ll feel better if you just get up. Watch out for Sans, he’s right below you and apparently not getting up any time soon,” Averia says.

Grunting in acknowledgement, Ferrin gets up carefully and follows Papyrus into the kitchen. For once he’s looking affected by a lack of sleep, moving slower and taking longer to get the grilled cheese plated than normally. He nods in response to her half-hearted wave but seems no more inclined to speak than she is. Ferrin settles her aching head in her arms and snoozes. The next thing she’s aware of is the plate being put down in front of her, followed by Papyrus walking off. She looks up in time to see him return, a still sleeping Sans tucked under one arm. He places his brother in the seat across from Ferrin as Averia walks in, and the food is eaten mostly in silence. Ferrin and Sans are still trying to reach full alertness, rubbing at their heavy eyelids every once in a while. Papyrus and Averia seem less affected but still tired and disinclined to conversation.

Sans is the first to really break the sleepy quiet. “How many soul pieces d’ya got again?”

Ferrin’s thoughts are still moving through oatmeal to understand the question when Papyrus responds. “We obtained the third part of four last night. Why do you ask?”

Sans shrugs. “I was just thinkin’, what’re you guys gonna do when you’ve got all four anyways?”

“I’m too tired to figure out what you mean,” Ferrin says.

“I mean how’re ya gonna get the doc back anyways? Just mash ‘em together?”

Ferrin looks to Papyrus and Averia for answers, only to find them looking at her questioningly. “What? I don’t know. Am I supposed to?”

“I did rather think you would,” Papyrus confesses.

“This was your idea, Ferrin,” Averia points out. “I don’t know much about soul medicine either. Toriel knows more, but probably not enough. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask her though.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Sans says. “How’s about we go talk to Al? She’s done the most with souls outta everybody down here.”

“Would she be okay with helping us? I know everybody’s sort of focused on Flowey but that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly off everybody's shit list,” Ferrin points out.

“Eh, I doubt Al’ll care. She knows more than Tori, that’s for sure.”

“Alphys is probably our best shot,” Ferrin says. “Paps, Averia, what do you think?”

“If you think she’s our best bet I’ll agree,” Averia says.

“I believe Alphys might be just the monster! Shall we go then?” Papyrus asks cheerily. He doesn’t even wait for a response before sweeping the dirty dishes off of the table and depositing them in the sink. He turns to the others and puts his hands on his hips. “Well?”

The three still seated at the table start moving, Averia to head to Grillby’s to get the other pieces of Gaster’s soul, Ferrin to grab her coat and shoes, and Sans, after prompting, to get real shoes instead of slippers. A few minutes later they reconvene in front of the River Person’s dock to get a ride to Hotland. The River Person doesn’t even ask where they want to go, their boat already moving. They’re quiet throughout the trip, only humming a faintly familiar tune under their breath.

As everyone steps out, they finally speak. “Averia~?”

“What?”

Something subtle shifts in the air around the River Person, their demeanor somehow changed. “When you meet with the man who speaks in hands~… Tell him I know.”

Averia waits for them to finish their sentence, looking at them in confusion. “You know what?”

“Many things~. He will know what I mean. Fare thee well. Tra la la~,” they sing, their boat slowly moving away, gaining speed. The River Person and their boat disappear into the murky light of the tunnels they travel through, their message just as vague as before.

“One day they’ll spout cryptic bullshit and I’ll finally just wring their damn neck,” Averia says, more confused than angry.

“C’mon. Lab’s over here,” Sans says, taking the lead.

_The River Person is sort of scary_ , Chara comments.

_‘You’re telling me… I swear they always know something I don’t,’_ Ferrin replies silently.

_Maybe they’re a god or something._

_Honestly, that would make way too much sense._

The Lab is a towering white building, pristine despite its age, its corners sharp enough to cut yourself on. The small grey button Sans presses is one of the only spots of color on the entire thing. A moment later the doors slide open, cooler air rushing out of the building. When they step in, they see a messy room that smells vaguely of shrimp ramen and more strongly of chemicals. Alphys is standing in the middle of the room, fidgeting with the sleeve of her lab coat nervously, and beside her, looking at them all with no small amount of suspicion, is Undyne. She’s decked out in full armor, her helmet under her arm. Both of them look like they haven’t gotten any sleep in the past week, and Undyne’s boots show signs of a recent cleaning that failed to remove all of the mud from them. It’s flaking off in small sections, bits of dirt on a floor that could probably have used a good cleaning before their addition.

“‘Dyne, Al,” Sans says.

“What- what’re you h-h-here for?” Alphys asks, confused.

“We were hopin’ you’d be able to help us out with somethin’.”

“I-I mean, sure? I c-could? But what is it?”

“Wait a minute! Alphys is helping us,” Undyne objects. “We need her to find that damn flower on the computer screens!”

“Doesn’t take a Royal Scientist to look at some screens,” Sans says.

“Sans! Do not be rude,” Papyrus scolds. “Hello Undyne! It is a pleasant surprise to find you here. We are in need of your scientist friend’s help, you see.”

“What do you need her for that could be more important than saving every person on this planet?!”

“Well, you see-”

“Oh honestly. Could you please go a bit slower? If you do, the polar ice caps might melt and drown you all so I don’t have to deal with you any more.” The new voice, all too familiar to a few of their party, comes from the computer display behind them that is now dominated by static.

“Gaster,” Ferrin says, trying to ignore the sudden apprehension in her gut.

“Obviously. Undyne, silence yourself. The flower will not appear until it is ready to do so, presumably after subduing and stealing the power of _____’s soul. Now,” he continues, speaking over Undyne’s outraged objections, “Listen to me as carefully as you imbeciles are capable. You have three pieces of my soul. Commendable, considering I expected you to fail on the very first one… The last piece can be found on L3. After you have it, bring it back here and I will do the rest. Sans and Alphys, you two must begin the work I need done on the DT extractor. First-”

“And we’re gonna listen to ya because?” Sans drawls.

“I assume you would like to continue existing, and time is of the essence if that is a desire of yours. As I was saying, the schematics for my plan can be found in the files that Alphys salvaged from my work room after I was gone. Find them and start working. Once I have returned, I will finish the work. For your sakes, I would advise you work quickly.”

As suddenly as it had appeared, the static is gone, the screens showing normal daily life in the underground. Everyone is struck dumb for a long moment before they begin speaking at once. Undyne is shouting at the screen as though Gaster will return, Sans and Alphys have a hushed conversation before going up the stairs, Papyrus is attempting to calm Undyne down, and only Ferrin and Averia are silent. Averia looks oddly blank, almost like her brother’s attitude isn’t the surprise that Ferrin assumed it would be.

A few minutes later Undyne is still fuming but much quieter and no longer threatening the innocent computer screens with spears. As such, everyone can hear Alphy’s triumphant “Found it!”, and hurries to get upstairs. Alphys has laid out a large sheet of white paper covered in scrawling writing that, as Ferrin gets closer, she can identify as a version of Wing Dings. Alphys and Sans are already studying the paper closely.

Alphys speaks up a minute later. “We can do this, r-right? It- it doesn’t l-l-l-look that hard.”

“Prob’ly. D’ya have the parts? Usable copper wire ain’t exactly common.”

“O-of course I do! I just need- need to ch-check one of the closets for blow torch fuel,” Alphys says distractedly as she hurries away.

“What the hell is this thing for anyways?” Undyne asks.

“‘S far as I can tell, it does the same thing as the DT extractor. Only when it sucks out the DT, it moves whatever the DT’s in too,” Sans says. Seeing nothing but confused expressions, he adds, “In theory, it takes out the human soul, not just the DT. ‘Course we don’t know it’ll work…”

“Sans! D-don’t be so- so negative,” Alphys says as she climbs the last few stairs. She’s somewhat out of breath, but the excited shine in her eyes makes her look more alive than Ferrin thinks she’s ever seen her. “Doesn’t it look like it will work?”

“I s’pose so,” Sans admits.

“Th-then it’s our b-b-b-best shot. Even if it’s- it’s from him.”

“I don’t like this Al.”

“So what?” Undyne interrupts. “If Alph says it’s our best chance then I say we go for it! Do you know what the Guard has found while we were looking around? Nothing! Flowey has just disappeared, and if that guy can be believed then he’s gonna get the power of every human soul he has soon. At this point, what do we have to lose?”

Ferrin bristles. “Excuse me? That’s my sibling’s soul we’re talking about! That’s what we have to lose!”

Undyne rounds on Ferrin, glaring her down. “Do you not get what’s going on here? We have a hostile monster with six human souls and the ability to fucking rewind time! If we can’t stop him everyone’s dead. Not just monsters, not just humans, everyone! And that’s if we’re lucky. If we aren’t he just resets over and over and over and lets everyone remember until we all lose our minds. Get it through your thick skulls, both of you - if we lose now, I’m willing to bet we lose permanently. So maybe think a bit less about yourselves and-!”

Undyne breaks off as Alphys puts a gentle hand on her arm. “Undyne? I- I think you c-c-c-could use a b-break? When was the last- the last time you slept?”

“Yesterday.”

“I m-m-m-mean actually sleep.”

Undyne just shrugs, looking away.

“Th-th-that’s what I thought. You’ll be a lot- a lot better at your job i-i-if you get some r-rest.”

After a few long seconds, Undyne’s shoulders fall, and she nods. “Yeah, I should sleep. Just… Do the right thing, alright?”

Ferrin refuses to meet the look Undyne gives her, still angry. Sans just shrugs, prompting Undyne to sigh. With that, Undyne and Alphys disappear downstairs to get Undyne settled in

“Fuck her,” Ferrin says once they’re out of hearing. “Make sure that thing doesn’t hurt ______, Sans. I’m not going to fight for a reality where they don’t exist.”

“I hear ya. Don’t worry ‘bout it. You guys need to go find the last soul piece.”

“We do,” Averia says, speaking up for the first time since Gaster had made his appearance. “I just have to know - You weren’t surprised by his attitude, were you.”

“Not really much he could do to surprise me anymore. ‘Sides, ______ said that the one we’re talkin’ to is some sorta combination of all of the versions of the doc.”

“All of them.”

“Yup.”

Averia just nods, already deep in thought. Ferrin shares a worried glance with Papyrus, who looks sad, then looks to Sans, who’s as poker faced as ever. Realizing there’s not much she can do for any of them, she heaves a sigh and says, “Well, guess we’ve got a job to do. You guys ready?”

“Of course!” Papyrus says, trying for some cheer. Ferrin almost suggests they get going, only to be stopped by Sans cursing under his breath.

“That bastard,” Sans mutters under his breath, expression hard as he traces several lines of instructions with a finger.

“Did Gaster do something?” Papyrus asks, peering over his brother’s shoulder.

“It’s more what he didn’t do. This blueprint isn’t finished. Al or I could probably figure it out if we tried, but it’d take too long.”

“We might have some time, we don’t know that Flowey’s moving already,” Ferrin says.

“D’ya think we’ve got a month?” Sans asks grimly. “‘Cause I’m guessin’ that’s ‘bout what we’d need.”

“Even working together?” Papyrus asks.

“Yeah. He’s the one who did most of the work on the DT extractor in the first place and it’s been decades since either of us touched it. He’s backed us into a corner.”

“He knew we’d be having doubts,” Ferrin says. “He needed insurance.”

“It makes sense,” Averia agrees reluctantly. “Assuming we’d start the ball rolling and then giving us the last pieces of the puzzle in time for us to figure out there’s nowhere else to turn. It’s brilliant, if nothing else.”

“Sounds ‘bout right,” Sans says, straightening and picking up the papers. “Well, I’ve gotta get started, and Al doesn’t like people in her lab who don’t know what they’re doing. We’ll do our thing once she gets back. You guys get goin’, I’ll see you later.”

They say their farewells and Sans disappears into what Ferrin could have sworn was a bathroom. Neither Alphys nor Undyne are in the main room when they walk through, but Ferrin isn’t entirely sure she could be civil to Undyne at the moment anyways.

As they leave the Lab, Ferrin reaches over and slips her hand into Papyrus’, squeezing it reassuringly. When he starts walking slower, allowing Averia to pull ahead, she follows his lead until they’re at a complete stop out of sight of both her and the labs.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Is anyone?” he replies, looking sad and somewhat lost and very much not his usual self.

“Maybe not right now, but I think we all will be, don’t you?”

“If I am being incredibly optimistic? Of course. It does not make me any less concerned for us all. Undyne looks like she hasn’t taken a moment to rest in the past week.”

“Some people do better with this kind of stuff if they don’t let themselves sit down and worry. It looked like Alphys was going to make her take a sec and rest though.”

“I suppose so,” Papyrus says, staring hard at the ground. He looks back up after a moment. “I cannot decide if I should be more concerned when my brother does nothing for weeks at a time or when he suddenly ‘finds motivation’. Logically I suppose it must be good, since it means he has the energy to at least pretend to care, but it nevertheless seems… odd.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that too. Don’t you think knowing you’re in danger would motivate him to try harder? Or maybe he just thinks we have a shot at this?”

“Sans is nothing if not a pessimist.”

“Paps. We’re gonna be fine. We’re so close! We only need one more soul piece. And we’ve got the Great Papyrus, the Fantastic Ferrin, and… uh… the Astounding Averia?”

Papyrus snorts in a very indignified way. “I am sure she would love to hear you call her that.”

Ferrin laughs. “She’d love it, I’m telling you.”

“Ferrin?”

“Yeah?”

“When this is all over, do you think we could go travel the world together like we talked about before? I want to see the ocean, and the pink trees, and meet all sorts of people.”

“Of course we can. And maybe we could convince our friends to come along too. Undyne and Alphys would die of happiness if they went to Japan, and I bet Sans would like being somewhere way out of the way, no artificial light, just the stars. We’re going to get there, I promise,” Ferrin says, determination burning in her chest.

Papyrus nods firmly. “Of course we are! We will all be the very best of friends, and the very best of travel companions!”

He and Ferrin begin walking towards the elevators again. Just as Averia comes into sight, Papyrus whispers, “Thank you, Ferrin.”

“Any time Paps.”

When they reach her Averia is standing beside the elevator as she must have been for the past few minutes. Despite that the expected questions never come, just a “Let’s go.” as she presses the button for the elevator.

When they get to the top they step out to find another of the glitching monsters. This one is small, maybe more so than Frisk, and facing away from them. It almost appears to be floating, but a look at its arms reveal that it is more of a slow dissolve than anything else. They look at each other and Ferrin presses a finger to her lips. The other two nod and as a group they move towards the figure.

They’re only five feet away when the monster speaks. “You know, I understand why it took Asgore so long to replace the old Royal Scientist. After all, the old one… Doctor Gaster…” They pause before chuckling bitterly. “What a tough act to follow. He did create the CORE, after all, even if he did fall into his own creation… But you already knew that.”

The monster turns to look at them. It’s eyes take up nearly a third of its face, but unlike the others it speaks clearly, regarding them with resignation. “I am no fighter, nor am I so far gone as to believe I can win when you have already defeated the others. Strangely that has made accepting death no easier.”

“But you aren’t really alive, are you?” Ferrin asks, too startled to be tactful.

The monster smiles. “No, I suppose not. I am not even as I remember I once was - my arms and legs have been in the process of disappearing for a long while. At this rate I doubt I would have lasted more than another few months. It is strange to feel your soul disintegrating, even if it isn’t really yours.”

“Disintegrating?” Averia asks sharply.

“Indeed. My colleagues and I are unnatural. We would not have existed as long as we did if we had not done something that perhaps no other has before. But monsters stealing another monster’s soul… Inexcusable, even if unintentional. It is not unfair to expect us to return them.”

“Are you saying that you do not wish to fight?” Papyrus asks hopefully.

“I am older than I have any right to be. Death is almost welcome. Still,” they say, turning to look out over the cliff once more, “I cannot help but mourn the loss of this view.”

The other three look at each other in confusion. They aren’t sure what to do, or what the unnamed monster is trying to say. The grey monster interrupts the silent conference before the three of them come to an agreement.

“Would you mind standing with me, just for a moment? I want you to share this view with me. I took my wife here once, a long time ago. She said it was her favorite view in all of Hotland.”

Ferrin steps forward without really thinking it through, coming to stand next to the grey monster. The view really is astonishing. Above, the ceiling is covered in low hanging stalactites, some reaching almost close enough that Ferrin imagines in a few dozen years they’ll meet up with the floor and become a series of bizarre pillars. The heat has dissolved away rock from the walls lower down, resulting in shining streaks where metals were revealed and melted into the magma below. The light from the superheated rock reflects off of gemstones that have been similarly revealed, sending ethereal patterns of colored light up the walls and onto the magma itself. Caves big and small dot the walls and give the lights more to illuminate. From the incredible height they can just barely see the blue green glow of Waterfall in the distance.

“It really is beautiful,” Ferrin murmurs, hearing Papyrus and Averia step up to the ledge.

“Indeed. A fitting place for my death I think. May I take just a few more minutes?”

“Of course you can,” Ferrin says, trying to fight back the guilt.

“Do not feel sad on my behalf. I had a long, happy life beside the woman I loved. She has passed away now. I may even get to see her, perhaps. I am blessed to die with three saviors of monsterkind, one of whom I idolized from my earliest years. Captain Averia, head of the Royal Guard. It is the highest honor. And you two young ones, who will be the next generation’s greatest heroes. No, this is not a bad way to go.”

“It is an honor to meet you as well,” Averia says, her speech more formal than Ferrin has ever heard from her. “What is your name?”

“I was Levino, husband to Waveir, the best wife anyone has ever had.”

“Do you know the names of the others?”

“The cat monster was named Felix LVI. The lizard monster was Nicholas. The last was named Melvin.”

“Levino. Monsterkind forgot that you existed - we will not allow that injustice to prevail. Know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

“Thank you, Captain Averia.”

Ferrin is sure she can’t be the only one with tears in her eyes, throat tight as she chokes back any sound. By the time she thinks she’s regained enough control to speak again, she looks over, and all that is left of the monster is a tiny glowing fragment of soul. Averia is the next to turn, and sure enough, she has purple tears running down her cheeks too. She stoops and lifts the tiny shard of soul solemnly.

“Let’s go,” is all she says, turning back to the elevator.

Ferrin is the one silently asking for comfort this time, Papyrus taking his turn to comfort her. Neither knows how to reach out to Averia. She remains silent and stern throughout the trip back to the labs. Inside they find no one present, but speakers crackle to life as they stand there, uncertain.

“S-sorry, but you guys can- can’t come d-d-d-down, it’s not safe,” Alphys says. “We’ll let you kn-know when it is though, o-okay?”

“Got it,” Ferrin says.

None of the three of them much feel like talking. Papyrus and Ferrin end up sitting down on the cleanest of Alphys’ work desks, while Averia takes the lone seat at another. She doesn’t seem able to stop looking at the soul piece in her hand.

“I think,” Averia says suddenly, breaking the silence, “I owe everyone an apology.”

“What are you talking about?” Ferrin asks.

“Levino reminded me of what I’m supposed to be. Even the former Captain of the Royal Guard shouldn’t mope for free in someone else’s bar. They definitely shouldn’t put a family member before the safety of their charges, and no one ever said that only extended to monsters.”

“I’ve already forgiven you for that, so it’s fine, right?”

“I would like to add that it is highly unlikely Grillby was against your stay at his bar,” Papyrus adds. “He is a very kind man.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’ve fucked up. I won’t be doing it again,” Averia says, and it sounds like she’s made a vow to herself. “The former Royal Scientist is a threat. I will treat him as such.”

“But we can’t save anyone if we don’t have his help!” Ferrin objects.

“You’re right - we need him. So I’ll do my part to finish bringing him back. Once that’s done… I’ll be doing my job.”

Ferrin looks to Papyrus for help, but he seems just as lost as she does. In the meantime Averia drops the last remaining soul shard into the bag with the rest. Just as Ferrin has decided she has to say something, Alphys' voice comes back over the speakers.

“O-o-okay, it’s all ready. Just t-t-take the elevator!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am sorry about the huge gaps in between chapters guys! It's a lot of things, but I'm sure nobody wants to hear about all of them haha. 
> 
> I do want to mention that I've actually started a new fanfic for another (Very tiny but really freakin' nice? Like dang.) fandom! It's for the 2017 version of Prey, which was a really cool game with an amazing ending. You also totally don't have to have played/watched someone else play Prey to understand the story.[It's called Something Entirely New, and if you click here you can read it!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11307951/chapters/25304913) I'm working on it when I have artblock for MIR, but it's going to be a great story. Hope you guys check it out!


	58. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! And neither is this fic.
> 
> Not super satisfied with the update but I can't re-read it again so here we are.

The secret lab is eerie, things moving in the shadows that vanish the second Ferrin tries to get a good look at them. Alphys seems largely unbothered as she guides them through the hallways and tries to give them the short version of what she and Sans are trying to do. It still doesn’t make much sense to Ferrin. Based on the polite but utterly lost look on Papyrus’ face, he’s in about the same position.

The room Alphys leads them to is just as dimly lit as the others. The demonic looking machine sitting beside what Ferrin assumes is a pit straight to hell does set it apart from the previous rooms though. Sans is doing something involving wiring and a blowtorch, the schematics they’d found earlier laying on a table safely out of the range of the fire.

“A-and that’s about it!” Alphys finishes, turning to them. “You g-g-guys did g-get the... uh… soul pieces, right?

“We have them all. What are you planning to do with them?” Averia asks.

“I’m g-g-going to inject them w-w-with D-Determination,” Alphys says, looking frightened by her own suggestion. “I-I mean, since you guys- ohmygoshsorryIcan’tbelieveIsaidthat-”

“Al,” Sans interrupts, not even looking up, “It’s fine, you’re worryin’ too much. Tell ‘em your plan.”

“R-r-right, sorry. Sorry. Um. Determination. Skeleton m-m-m-monsters have a lot of Determination i-in the first p-p-place, so adding some to his s-s-soul should b-b-be okay? And w-w-with the Determination I sh-should be able to h-heal it with my m-m-magic?”

If Alphys’ hesitance and her seeming inability to have faith in her own plan give Averia any doubts, she doesn’t voice them. She hands over the bag containing the pieces of soul to Alphys with a nod. “How soon do you think it will be done?”

“There’s n-n-no way t-to be sure. A f-f-few hours at m-m-most.”

“Will I be in the way if I’m there?” Averia asks.

“I- Well, n-n-no, but c-could you wait until after I-I’ve used the D-D-Determination? I don’t w-w-want to be distracted.”

“That’s fine.”

Ferrin watches the two walk off into an unfamiliar murky hallway before looking up at Papyrus. She’s tired of talking about the plan beyond restoring Gaster to life, and she’s tired of trying to figure out puzzles when she has so many pieces missing. Time to spend time avoiding responsibility. “I saw some vending machines back there. You hungry?”

The vending machines are unsurprising standard fare. Bags of chips, granola bars, cookies, those weird meat sticks that probably weren’t meat but probably weren’t anything else either. Ferrin chooses a bag of chips at random. The bag reads ‘poptato chisps’. She wonders if maybe that’s a typo that someone was too lazy to fix.

“That is not a very healthy snack,” Papyrus says disapprovingly.

Ferrin grins and shrugs, popping a ‘chisp’ in her mouth. “You know, some people to consider potatoes a vegetable. So technically this is like eating that fancy fruit leather stuff. Only it’s not horrifically overpriced and weirdly textured. Oh, and it doesn’t stick to your teeth.”

Papyrus laughs a little as he straightens, a water bottle in one hand. “You are very strongly opinionated on the subject of fruit leather.”

Ferrin points at him, the hand holding her chisps on her hip. “Fruit leather is disgusting and I will not stop hating it until one of us is banished from this Earth!”

She stares at Papyrus sternly for a few more seconds before cracking up. He’s laughing too, and it takes a few minutes before they’re able to sober up. It feels cleansing to laugh at something silly even in the middle of everything going south. She’s about to try getting Papyrus to go off about his hatred of Hotland when a shrill shriek echoes through the hallways. They look at each other, shocked, before booking it back down the hall and into the room with the machine. Sans is gone but the raised voices lead them to another hallway. As they get closer to the source of the noise, they can make out the words being said.

“-actly what you two managed to accomplish, assuming you could even understand what you were reading.”

Alphys’ stammering is indecipherable, but her terror is clear.

“Back off, asshole!” Averia’s low snarl is back, but somehow it’s filled with even more contempt than ever before. Papyrus and Ferrin stop in the doorway just as she finishes speaking. Alphys is cowering with her back against a counter, looking like she might cry. Averia is standing in front of her, a dozen sharp bones hovering in the air behind her. Sans is facing away from the doorway they’re standing in, but Ferrin can still see how tense he is.

And last, but certainly not least, was the source of the entire affair. Gaster looks less threatening than Ferrin had expected from his voice. His face is sharp and angular, sure, but it’s less pronounced than Papyrus’. His skull is cracked, one cut running from his right eye up and over the back of his skull, the other bridging the bone between his left eye and his mouth. Somehow, despite this, the only thing she can see through the cracks is darkness. He’s wearing the worn jeans and t-shirt that Averia has been carrying around for just this occasion. As Ferrin and Papyrus stand uncertainly just inside of the door, he pulls on a stark white lab coat over the rest of his clothing.

“It’s lovely to see you too, dear sister.” His tone is dripping with condescension and malice. If he notices the new arrivals he gives no indication as he adjusts his coat to his liking. “And as much as I would love this opportunity to catch up - it has been, what, three hundred years? I assure you I did not miss you too much, although I _had_ forgotten just how annoying you are - I believe there are some slightly more pressing issues than your ruffled feathers or that incompetent’s feelings. Or were you planning to charge me with illegal experimentation? You’d need to arrest her too, she’s long since stopped using my notes and moved on to making her own. And, of course, in that case you would be left only with the washed up shell of a once respected scientist to undo the mess you people have caused. Hardly sufficient to get the job done.”

Nobody seems to have a response to that, and Gaster just keeps smirking as he finishes straightening his sleeves. He doesn’t appear to expect anyone to object either, striding towards the door the second he’s satisfied with his appearance.

Ferrin barely resists the urge to shudder as he sweeps past her. She’s used to people being taller than her, accustomed to them having to look down to speak to her. What she isn’t used to is the immediate feeling of being looked down upon. At least, she hasn’t been used to it. Not for years.

She glances up at Papyrus, hoping he’ll know what to do, but he’s watching his creator walk away into the dim murk of the secret labs with an odd look on his face. “That was…?”

“Former Royal Scientist Doctor Gaster, yup,” Sans says. He appears entirely unbothered by the entire sequence of events. Apparently even the reappearance of his father/not father wasn’t enough to shake him.

Papyrus just nods and turns to follow Gaster. Ferrin follows him, worried for him but more concerned that it wasn’t her place to voice those fears. Gaster has wasted no time, already settled beside the machine and elbow deep in its insides by the time they arrive.

Papyrus doesn’t look sure of himself, but he plasters on a confident smile and approaches his father. “Hello, former Royal Scientist! Or I suppose I could call you Father, although I understand if you may need time to adjust to the idea of being father to one such as I! I am Papyrus, although I suppose you must have known that, having named me! We have not quite gotten off on the right-”

His voice breaks off as he’s stared down by a trio of the same immense goat-dragon skulls Sans has called before. These are glowing with yellow light just barely tinged with red. Gaster doesn’t even look up.

“I have no children. If I did, they would certainly not be…. Oh, a good old fashioned game of chicken. Lovely.”

The room’s starting to feel cramped as three more of the skulls appear out of nowhere to hover above Papyrus and Ferrin, aimed at an unfazed Gaster. They’re humming with energy, blue and yellow chasing each other inside of their gaping jaws.

Behind them, there’s a cold chuckle. “I’d say it’s more a game of ‘ _get the fuck away from my brother and my friend_ ’.

Gaster just scoffs, returning to his work. “If you fire those, you hit the machine and lose any chance of preventing a planet wide massacre. That would be several billion people dead due to your temper, _Doctor Sans_.”

“Fuck off,” Sans says flatly. “I’ve got practice with these things. I won’t hit anything I care about losing.”

That seems to get Gaster’s attention. He rises to his feet, brushing dust from his lab coat before looking at them with a cold smile. “Ah yes, repeatedly murdering a child with them would do that, wouldn’t it? How many times was it again? One hundred? One thousand? Although honestly once you’ve done it the first dozen times I’d imagine the rush wears off. Not that _I_ would know, seeing as I’m not a murderer.”

Sans doesn’t have a response to that, just staring down his creator with fire in his eye socket. Ferrin can’t move, terrified to remind either of them what, exactly, they’re fighting over.

“Now, I once again remind you that I have an important job here,” Gaster says, gesturing towards the machine. “Unlike all of you, I am essential to this process. I do not need your emotions interfering with my work. I repeat, for the final time, that I have no children. As far as I am concerned you are nuisances that would be better off-”

Gaster stops speaking as a cloud of pointed bones materialize around him, blocking off all routes of escape. Ferrin chances a glance at Sans but he looks as surprised as she is.

“Former Royal Scientist Wingdings Gaster, you are under arrest.” Averia steps forward, summoned sword in hand. Her voice is strong, unyielding, but flat and emotionless. “You are to continue your work as is essential to the safety of the crowned king. Further communication with any parties uninvolved in your work will be punished.”

Gaster’s shoulders shake as she finishes speaking. Quiet laughter quickly turns into mocking peals that echo off the dark, blank walls of the secret labs, chasing ghosts down the hallways. “Y-You?!” Gaster sputters between laughs. “Even you can’t really be this stupid! Arrest me? On whose authority? You’re no longer Captain of the esteemed Royal Guard, as you seem to have forgotten. You have no right to arrest me!”

A new voice cuts into the conversation, heavy footsteps approaching the fight. “She might not, but I do,” Undyne says, appearing from down yet another hallway. She’s still worn ragged, hair messy and bags hanging heavy under her eyes, but she’s standing tall, every inch the respected core of the Royal Guards. “You are under arrest, former Royal Scientist Wingdings Gaster. You _will_ return to your work and you _will_ hold your damn tongue. Your trial takes place whenever King Asgore gets around to it. I personally vote we leave you to rot in a dungeon somewhere for a while first.”

The blue spear at his throat, surrounded by a dozen others and backed up by the golden spears aimed at Gaster’s back earn only another smirk. “How lovely. Threatened by an idiot scientist, an idiot too dumb to die when she should have, and an unqualified child all in one day. Would anyone else like to get a jab in while I am here?”

Undyne ignores his attempts to rile her up and just nods to the machine. “Get back to work and shut it.”

“A little difficult with all of these weapons pointed at me,” Gaster says, poking at one of the spears.

The spears vanish, followed closely by the bones. It takes a few seconds and a pointed look from Undyne to get the six skulls lurking ominously overhead to go the same way. Gaster looks smug as he turns back to his work. Ferrin’s shaken to her core, and she can’t even begin to imagine how Papyrus feels.

She’s about to try to coax him away when Averia moves again. She comes to stand beside Gaster, sword now held loosely in one hand.

“I believe I was told not to-” Gaster begins.

“Shut up,” Averia says, voice thick with emotions Ferrin can’t place. Her arm moves and the edge of her sword is pressed against Gaster’s neck. “I want to make this as clear as possible. My brother died. I do not know when, although I can hazard a guess as to how. I feel great sorrow at his passing.”

“How sw-”

The blade moves and a thin trickle of dust falls to the floor. Finally, Gaster seems affected, falling silent, hands freezing on the parts he was examining.

“I already told you to shut up. Consider that a warning. My brother was a great man. He was kind, understanding, would give his all when he believed it was for the right cause. He loved taking apart simple machinery, reading books that made my head swim, and trying to understand how magic and machinery could be melded to form a greater whole. He was shy, and he did not always understand people, and many thought him unfriendly for it. They were wrong. To his king he was an indispensable member of his core counsel. To his friends he was wise advice in a bad place. To his sister he was a sympathetic ear and a reminder that she was never alone. To his wife, he was a better husband than even he knew he could be, and the best friend she never had growing up. I believe he would have found he was equally great as a father.

“My brother would not hurt an innocent. My brother would not harm his children, he would not betray his king, would not flaunt breaking the laws he had helped implement. He would never send children to do work adults twice their age are unqualified for. He would have made sure I was the first to know I was an aunt. My brother would have introduced me to my nephews with a stupid, silly, overjoyed grin on his face because he would have loved those children the way that they deserved to be loved.”

Averia takes a deep, painful, shuddering breath. “My brother is dead. You are no brother of mine.”

With that she turns and strides past the three still standing there, rooted where they’d been when this began. Even Gaster seems frozen. The moment feels surreal, like if anyone does move, if anyone dared to speak, something is going to be changed forever. Like something should be happening and it won’t, because it can’t, because what was just said was true and lies can change but the truth is set in stone.

When times does resume, it’s not the earth shattering moment it feels like it should be. Papyrus is the first to move. He turns, determination and hurt in his eye sockets, and marches out of the doorway Averia had just disappeared into. Ferrin turns to watch him go. Sans follows his brother out, leaving her alone in the room with Gaster. Uncomfortable, she trails behind him.

Up ahead they can see Papyrus talking to Averia, who seems to be doing her best to wipe away the tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

“-and yeah, I did mean it,” she’s saying as Ferrin gets close enough to hear. “You two couldn’t be any more my brother’s sons. Not the fucker back there, the one I knew. Maybe he just sorta gave you two the good bits and that’s why we’re left with… that.” Averia laughs once, sharply, looking down at her feet. “Not that I can talk about being a shitty person. But skeleton monsters have always been families of choice. There’s nothing saying you’ve gotta accept me as your aunt or something. It’s fine, I get it.”

Papyrus hesitates. “Did you… What you said about our father, was it true?”

“Yeah. It was. He was a great man.”

“So, by extension, you must be a very great woman to have been his sister! I may be most familiar with you as a, er, well, rather angry individual, but I think I can safely say you aren’t so bad! In fact, being related to such great people as my brother and I could only be helpful in your recovery! From being not so great!”

Averia blinks a few times. “I… sorry, was that an insult or a compliment?”

Papyrus throws his hands in the air, frustrated. “Speaking is difficult! I am trying to say that although our past relationship has been rocky, I am more than willing to be your nephew. I would enjoy the chance to get to know you, and by extension my father, better. Was that clearer?”

“You nailed it bro. You’re sorta puttin’ words in my mouth though,” Sans says. Papyrus jumps, not having noticed their approach.

“Sans! I uh… I was not trying to speak for you, but I believe I may have inadvertently done so. My apologies, brother.”

“Nah, ‘s fine. So, uh… Not your brother, huh?”

Averia sighs. “No, not my brother. I should file the paperwork for that, but then I have to file the paperwork to bring myself back from the dead. And him too, now that I think about it. I didn’t mean to claim you two as my nephews either. Stopped thinking when I started talking, and we all know how that goes. So no need for any mushy family stuff.” Averia hesitates, claws tearing tiny holes in the fabric of her sleeve as she fiddles with it. “Unless you, you know, want to.”

Sans rubs his neck, looking at Papyrus. “What do ya think? I know you’ve always wanted a bigger family…”

“Sans…” Papyrus sighs, crossing his arms. “We have had this discussion before. As much as I would love to know my other family members, you have always been all the family that I needed. I can accept our aunt, but that is not the point. How do you feel about the idea?”

“I don’t really-”

“Sans,” Papyrus says sternly, glaring at his brother.

Sans sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Look, I knew about doctor asshat over there for ages. I figured if we had any other family they wouldn’t be anybody we’d want to meet. I wasn’t exactly proved wrong. No offense, Averia.”

Averia grimaces. “No, I deserve that one.”

“So I dunno about this whole ‘aunt’ thing. But if you wanna give it a go… I’ll trust your judgement.”

Papyrus grins and claps his hands together, making everyone else jump. “Then it is settled! We have an aunt! It is a pleasure to meet you, Aunt Averia!”

“Uh. Yeah. Pleasure’s mine,” Averia says, looking awkward. She looks much more awkward when Papyrus announces it is now time for a group hug and pulls his brother and new aunt in.

Ferrin decides it’s just about time for her to bail, since she’s not exactly a part of this. Papyrus notices her attempts to back away from the family gathering and says, “No, Ferrin, you should join us! You’re practically my sister anyways!”

Sans makes a choked noise. “Woah, woah, Paps, slow down! We were not- geez bro, ya don’t think that would be a little fast?”

Papyrus looks at his brother, confused. “What under the Earth are you….? Oh my gods, Sans! I know you two weren’t- I simply mean that if I am allowed to choose my family members then Ferrin is the obvious choice to be my sister!”

“Oh. Right. Wait, why?” Sans asks.

“Hm. I do not know exactly why. Ferrin, do you think you could be my sister?”

“I’ve got a little too much meat on my bones to be a skeleton monster,” Ferrin points out. It isn’t really a response, but how the hell do you respond to that?

“That does not matter! You can be my sister anyways!”

Ferrin hesitates. She’s only ever been one person’s sister, and even though this is probably just Papyrus being silly, even though her agreement doesn’t mean it’s legally binding, with ______ gone it just feels like she would be trying to replace them. And even if you weren’t…. temporarily gone she would still feel like she should talk it over with you.

Or, she realizes, looking at Papyrus, if you were here you’d be telling her that she’s being ridiculous. You know she can’t replace you. There are decades of memories there, a shared childhood pain, secrets and stories traded. You know she loves you; she knows you love her.

And even if she doesn’t quite yet have that with Papyrus, she thinks she could. He knows things she hasn’t told anyone but you and her psychiatrist. He’s a lot like the imaginary brother she wishes she’d had as a kid.

“Ferrin? I did not mean that you had to agree, I apologize,” Papyrus says. He looks concerned, like he’s guessed at the thoughts moving through her head and wants to know she’s alright.

“Ah fuck it,” she says, smiling, eyes watery. “I’d love to be your honorary sister Paps. Do I get in on the awkward family hug now?”

“Language! But yes.”

Papyrus and Sans move over so she can take a spot in the circle. It’s a little weird, sure. Averia still looks like something out of a horror movie, and she definitely wanted her dead when they met. Sans is difficult to get to know, sort of strange, and their first real conversation had been Sans trying in increasingly un-subtle ways to tell her that his brother wasn’t interested in dating anyone. She almost feels bad that she hadn’t stopped him once she finally realized where he was going - it took twenty minutes and three different explanations for her to catch on, but she’d let him go for another thirty minutes because it was funny. And Papyrus… he’s too trusting, too open, too easily attacked. He’s not weak by any stretch of the imagination, but he can get hurt even by people who don’t mean to do it and hide that pain behind a smile. He’s smart, kind, exuberant. She wants to be there to support him and to be supported.

It’s a strange realization to find that she wants to be there, wants to be a part of this family. She doesn’t really know what it’s like to love your family. You’re the only exception, and you’re a mismatched jumble of best friend, parent and older sibling. Her other experiences with family are uncomfortable at best and awful at worst. But maybe… maybe she can change the way she thinks about the word. Maybe family can come to mean a woman who wants to be better, a man who’s recovering from time warp induced trauma, and a man who does his best, even when he’s not sure his best is enough. And maybe they can heal together.

 

 

 

  
A few hours later, Averia is in the middle of explaining who Impact was and why exactly a human diplomat had run from his house screaming when a gigantic skeleton dog had knocked on his door and very politely asked to speak to the head of the house. Sans is either sleeping or listening with his eyes closed, and Ferrin is leaning on her new brother’s shoulder. A sharp rap on the doorway draws their immediate full attention. They look over to find Undyne standing there.

“He’s just finished. Asgore’s on his way over,” Undyne says.

“You sure the thing actually works?” Sans asks without a trace of sleep clouding his voice.

“Don’t really have anybody to test it on. We’re gonna make it up as we go, and we’re gonna beat up that flower!” Undyne shouts.

Papyrus and Ferrin cheer. Undyne grins. “Alright you punks, let’s get going! Asgore’ll be here in twenty, let’s be ready to meet him!”

“Yes Captain!” Ferrin and Papyrus shout together, jumping out of their chairs.

As they walk down the hallway they’re joined by Alphys, who tells them she’s contacted Frisk and Toriel. They’ll be joining the rest of them in front of the labs once Frisk finds their other shoe. They arrive in the room where the machine had been to find that Gaster’s already stored it away in the void. When asked what the hell that meant he just rolled his eyes, so Sans told then it wasn’t a big deal, just where the skull things went when they weren’t in use. He didn’t seem too concerned, so everyone let the issue go. As ready as they’ll ever be they head up the elevator in groups and exit the labs. Hotland is as dry and sweltering as ever. Ferrin is glad to see the approaching king and his guards coming towards them, right up until she sees his face.

As they get closer she can see that Asgore is flanked by two tall, broad monsters in full armor, expression solemn. Undyne’s smile falters as he comes to a stop in front of them, robes swishing around his feet. “There has been a mass killing in the palace. Many of my guards perished. The barrier is broken by Flowey’s power and the souls he has stolen. We may already be too late.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a couple of notes here. This will get long so skip it if you're not interested.
> 
> First, Alphys is tripping out earlier because she said 'you guys' when she meant 'skeleton monsters'. Is it really offensive? None of the skeleton monsters think so, but anxiety twists your own words as much as it twists the words of others. Alphys is worried she's offended them.
> 
> Second, I really am sorry about the delayed updates. I've been in a funk for a while and my mental health has been not so great, you know how it goes. 
> 
> The third note is me being entirely, 100% honest. I no longer feel confident that this fic is anywhere near what I have the capacity to produce. In a way that's good. I did start this two years ago and if my storytelling abilities hadn't improved in that long I'd be doing something wrong. In another way it's seriously impeding my ability to write, because I look back and regret decisions I can no longer change without rewriting this whole thing. I refuse to leave this story unfinished on principle. We are incredibly close to the end. I will finish this. But it might take me a while, and I'm sorry for that.
> 
> My fourth and final note is probably the hardest to write. I've made a lot of promises to continue this story with prequels, sequels, side stories I've got half planned notes for all over my google docs. And I'm really attached to a lot of those stories, but I can feel how easy it would be to stagnate here and write nothing but fanfiction for the rest of my life. And there's nothing wrong with that for a lot of people. Fanfiction is fun, it's nice to write and nice to read. I'm not abandoning fanfic entirely - I'm finishing stories I've started and I have no doubt I'll write short pieces for various fandoms. But I want to write my own stories. And I can't do that with other people's characters. I also have two more years of college and a new job I need to focus on. I have to pick and choose where I spend my free time, and I don't have enough to write my own stories and start up, plan, and write out lengthy fanfiction. 
> 
> My final decision is that I will finish Make It Right exactly as I planned it instead of cutting anything out because I want to finish this right. I will continue and finish my Prey (2017) fanfic. But I'm going to stop there and I can't guarantee I'll be staying in this fandom or any other one. I'm sorry to drop so many potential ideas but I hope you guys can understand.
> 
> Anyways, that's about it. See you guys in the next update.


	59. Night Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's ya girl

No one knows how to react. Most of the monsters are stunned at the very idea that the barrier is broken, half-remembered memories nowhere near enough to prepare them for the reality of it. Even Papyrus looks somewhat shocked. Sans is the only one who seems not to care - the look in his eye sockets is, well, more dead than anything else.

Everyone is jolted back to reality as Undyne pounds her fist into her hand and says, “Alright then! We’ve gotta get a move on! No time to waste!”

“Indeed,” Asgore agrees. “But first… take me to my former Royal Scientist. I believe it time we meet again.”

“No need,” Gaster says, emerging from the murky depths of the secret lab’s elevator. His grin is too sharp to be sincere as he bows and his words drip with condescension. “My king. Your most loyal servant has returned.”

Asgore shakes his head wearily. “From the information I have been given, I am not so sure that he has. Averia?”

“I don’t trust him as far as Ferrin could throw him,” she replies.

“I see.”

Asgore turns without another word and leads the way back to the River Person and their boat. Gaster chuckles quietly but chooses not to comment as everyone follows behind the monster king. Somehow, despite being barely large enough for five people before, the boat now easily accommodates Asgore, his guards, and the seven from the labs.

Asgore speaks again as the boat pulls away from the docks. “I have been told of the situation by Captain Undyne. Doctor Alphys, can I trust that you have a solution to our problem?”

“Y-”

Gaster cuts in, laughing. “Doctor? Her? Please. Just talk to the real Royal-”

Gaster stops talking as a glowing blue spear presses against his vertebrae. Undyne looks thoroughly pissed, growling, “Shut up you asshole. Alphys, can you tell us about what you and Sans did?”

“I-I- um, i-i-it’s okay…. he c-can…”

“Alphys. I would much appreciate the input of my Royal Scientist,” Asgore says, putting a not-so-subtle emphasis on her title.

“R-right, sorry. Um. The simplified version i-i-is that w-we took the D-D-D-Determination Extractor and… we-well it’s a little hard to explain that part but it sh-should probably e-e-extract souls n-now?”

Asgore nods. “And this will enable us to stop Asriel?”

“Y-yes.”

Asgore just nods as the boat comes to a gentle halt by the entrance to the secret path into the palace. He gets out first and leads them up the road once everyone else is out. Up at the first door they meet up with a robotic man that Alphys greets as ‘Mettaton’. He seems subdued despite his flashy appearance. Asgore greets him solemnly and continues leading them on. Ferrin has to admire the king’s strength. She'd only learned about Asriel becoming Flowey a few hours ago and it was still a shock. Asgore has had a few days, but learning that your only son was the nightmare haunting your people… She had no idea how he’s still so put together, as kingly as ever. Toriel had been inconsolable for days, but she's standing just as tall as he is. She looks every inch the queen she was as she faces her ex-husband and the crimes of her son.

The group follows the king up and through the castle, finally coming to a stop in an unassuming, dark hallway. To their right is the way they'd come, to the left an oddly ominous stairway leading down. In front of them, shining with warm, bright light, is the exit to the underground. The floor is covered in a thick layer of silvery dust. The monsters look at it with a sick sense of unease. Ferrin suddenly understands why when she realizes what it must be.

“Two squads of the Night Knights were left here to guard the exit. We had stationed more, but we thought we had a lead… When we returned, they were dust and the Barrier was broken,” Asgore says solemnly. “Flowey has escaped and will already be taking his vengeance on humanity.”

There's really nothing to say to that. The air feels thick with unspoken words and emotion. After a minute, Asgore takes the first step forward and leads the rest up to the sun.

It's a beautiful day. It's late spring, the mountainside covered in bright green foliage and flower blossoms. Somewhere there are birds singing and baby animals just barely leaving their homes for the first time. The sky is a clear, bright blue.

And off in the distance, right where Grenwood should be, is a rising column of dark grey smoke.

The sight fills Ferrin with despair even as she finally feels the sun warming her skin for the first time in more than a week. It seems to have a similar effect on all present. Frisk is clinging to a silently crying Toriel as Asgore stares unseeingly into the distance. Undyne's fists are clenched so tight they're shaking. Alphys is biting her trembling lip, eyes over bright. Ferrin had grabbed Papyrus’ hand before they went up, and she's not sure which of them is gripping on to the other tighter. Sans and Averia both look strained, the former glancing up at his brother like he's about to say something comforting before thinking better of it and looking away again. Gaster alone looks unaffected, sneering at everyone else's reactions. Or it could just be that his face has finally gotten stuck like that.

Asgore turns to the guards beside him. “Have you mobilized the Royal Guard?”

“Yes, sire. We’re having them gather in the throne room as requested.”

“Good. I and the others are going in to the human’s town. I doubt that our enemy remains there but we must hope that we can save any residents still alive. When everyone is gathered bring them to join us. The smoke will guide you.”

The guards salute and march away. Undyne seems to have regained control of her feelings, as a moment later she clears her throat loudly and nearly shouts, “Alright! We're on the surface, and we're gonna go kick some ass! You guys ready?!”

Her enthusiasm is no less forced than that of the replies that meet her question. Their determination, though, doesn't falter as they make their way down the mountain path. Ferrin pauses for only a second when she sees the two cars parked in the parking lot at the base of the mountain. She comes to a complete stop when she realizes that there are now signs posted warning about two missing persons having been lost on the mountain. Warnings about bears, mountain lions, and venomous snakes have replaced the faded signs advertising the local pizza place and telling kids the names of the various wildflowers in the area.

Ferrin is grateful that the fastest path to Grenwood doesn’t go past her home. She doesn’t know if Asriel would have gone out of his way to be petty but she’s not interested in finding out either. The trek is sweaty and tiring, but still too short by the time they reach the outskirts of town.

Knowing the town was smoking and seeing the destruction are two entirely separate things. It doesn't hurt as bad as watching her sibling run to their death, but she still feels like she's trying to breathe in concrete as she tries to take in the damage. There isn't a single building still standing. Wood, stone, and bricks litter the roads and fall from the smoldering wreckage. The smoke hits the back of her throat like a physical force.

The bodies are another thing entirely. She can’t make out faces - doesn’t want to, but couldn’t even if she did. They’ve been mutilated. Parts are strewn around, blood arching across the eerily peaceful streets and broken homes. There’s no more forced enthusiasm. Ferrin does her best not to think about why everyone but Sans, Asgore, Undyne, and Averia look horrified and unbelieving. The only fortunate thing, more of a lead lining than a silver one, is that Asriel is very clearly not there. He does not reply to their calls of challenges, and the fires that are still burning are well on their way to smoldering out.

Their group ends up near the center of town, everyone looking equally uncertain of what they should be doing. Undyne shouts something about finding survivors and tears off. Mettaton follows close behind after saying something about not letting her take all of the glory. The others are talking amongst themselves about whether or not the search for survivors would be worth the lives lost in the time Asriel is allowed to continue his rampage when Ferrin realizes that she’s looking at the battered remains of the police station. She sucks in a breath as the realization hits her.

“Abe,” Ferrin breathes, panic spiking in her chest.

She darts down the nearest street, the one Abe has lived on since she met him, and stops, turning in circles. Nothing looks remotely as it did only a week ago, or even a few hours ago. She only finds the house she’s looking for because of the battered patrol car parked out front. The house itself is heavily damaged. As she approaches she can see that it looks as though Asriel bashed the side of the house in with a large, blunt object before crushing the roof. She comes to a halt on the shattered porch. Inside, she hears a low sound.

She moves without thinking, ducking underneath the remains of the porch and into the house. It's no longer burning, the fire long gone out. Not far in, nearly hidden behind rubble, is Abe. He’s partially hidden underneath one of the support beams of his home. He’s not moving. Ferrin darts forward and reaches to grab the wood, intending to lift it. Instead she yelps and leaps back, the end of the beam she can get to still too hot to touch.

Toriel and Averia, who had followed her in without her noticing, immediately dart forward. Averia heaves up one end of the wooden beam pinning Abe to the floor of his home. She wrestles it over her shoulder and pushes herself up, teeth gritted as the wood creaks and snaps. Toriel sweeps in and moves him as gently as possible, pulling him out from underneath the beam. She settles him in the only open space left in his home and begins tending to him.

There’s blood on the floor, blood pooling from the injury to his leg that Toriel’s torso is blocking, bruising and wounds littering the hand and arm that Ferrin can see. Her breathing hitches and picks up, the hyperventilation making her dizzy almost immediately.

“Please leave. I will need to focus,” Toriel says.

Ferrin obeys. Outside she paces a rut in the ground as the minutes drag on. Finally, Toriel emerges from the house with Averia close behind. The mournful look on her face broadcasts her results before she voices them.

“I am sorry. There is nothing we can do but ensure he is comfortable now,” she says sadly.

“Can’t you-? Please?” Ferrin begs.

Toriel shakes her head mournfully. “I am sorry. He is beyond my help now. I do not think he even knew I was a monster. He tried to warn me about the ‘demon’.”

Ferrin cuts off a choked cry, opting instead to duck in underneath the hanging wood slats that are all that is left of Abe’s front porch. Inside she finds that Abe’s lower half has been covered by a partially burnt blanket but she can still clearly see that he’s missing most of the lower half of one leg. He’s covered in scratches, eyes closed, and for just a moment she can feel her heart stop beating. Then he moves, just a twitch of his hand and she dives to kneel beside him, taking his hand in hers.

“Who…?” he mutters, eyes barely opening.

“It’s- it’s me,” she says. “Ferrin. I’m back.”

His words are clearer this time as he visibly struggles to open his eyes and see her. “Ferrin? You’re not… Doesn’t matter. Not safe here. Go, before it comes back.”

Ferrin holds onto his hand more tightly. “It’s okay Abe. I’m safe. I brought friends with me. They’re strong, and they’re here to help. We’re going to stop him, I swear.”

“‘S… ‘s good. Why’s it so dark?” Abe asks, words slurred with exhaustion. “‘S night already?”

“I- What are-”

Averia’s voice calls her name sharply before she can reply to his question. She kneels down beside Ferrin, bones clicking against the wood floors. Averia puts a comforting hand on her shoulder and leans in. Her words are spoken in a low murmur, almost too quiet for Ferrin to hear. “The sight is the first to go. Then taste, smell, touch… Hearing is the last. Be strong, Ferrin. Don't stop talking to him.”

Her breath freezes in her throat as renewed heat seeps from her eyes, choking her.

“Fe… rin?” Abe asks fuzzily.

“Yeah. Yeah, Abe, I'm here,” she says. The first word nearly strangles her on the way out but by the end her voice is smooth again.

“You need… Leave. Run before…. it comes back.”

Ferrin shakes her head before remembering he can't see her. “Abe, I… We can't. I told you, remember? We're going to stop him. We’re going to save everyone.” Everyone but the people she loves the most.

“No. You can't...” The words seem to take more strength than he has. His objection fades to a barely audible plea.

“It's going to be okay, Abe. My friends are… they're strong, like you. We’ll be fine.”

Abe is silent for a few heartbeats too long. Just as she's about to check his pulse, he speaks again. “It's…. cold.”

“I know.”

Abe’s next words are slurred, hard to hear even when she’s straining to do so. “‘M dying… aren’t I?”

Ferrin freezes, then looks to Averia as though hoping she’ll have answers. Averia nods firmly.

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” she chokes out. “If we’d been faster, come sooner…”

“Not your fault… Lord’s got a plan.”

Ferrin shakes her head, holding back her demand to know why this plan needs to involve one of the best men she’s ever known dying. “I know. You know you’re going straight to heaven, right?”

“Dunno…some bad...”

“Whatever bad things you’ve done, you’ve made up for a thousand times over. If anyone belongs in an eternal paradise it’s you.”

He doesn’t reply.

“Abe?”

Nothing.

“Please?”

In the silence that follows her plea Averia leans over and presses two fingers into the side of his neck. She waits for a long minute before withdrawing and shaking her head. Ferin sobs, clutching Abe’s hand to her chest. A familiar gloved hand presses against her back as its owner offers what comfort he can give.

She tries to rein in the tears, bring herself to function, but a thought renews the sobs just as she gets them under control. It’s several long minutes before she can imagine speaking again.

“I lied to him,” she chokes out. “The religion stuff. He was dying and I lied!”

“Your words brought him comfort,” Averia says quietly. “That’s the best we can give the dying.”

“I don’t believe in it. I lied,” she insists.

“Sometimes, at the end, that’s all you have to offer. He believed. It was enough to bring him comfort in his last breath. I gave up wondering if their belief in what I saw as false hope was something to be mourned or celebrated.”

Ferrin clutches to his hand like she’s hoping it’ll bring him back, breathing in past the hurt. “I used to hate religion. My parents were… not great, and their religious beliefs were a part of that. And then I met Abe and I learned that some people’s beliefs made them love everyone instead of judging and hating them. I just wish I’d told him that.”

“There’s always something more that you didn’t say. He died knowing you were alive and you loved him. You won’t get anywhere wishing you had been able to say more.”

Ferrin nods, shoulders shaking. Her friends are silent support around her, but it hurts. It’s like layering a new wound over one half-healed. Something in her is on the verge of breaking, strained under the weight of hurt, fear, anger.

She feels the raw pain of air entering and exiting her lungs, hears the sounds of the fires crackling all around, of feet crunching over the remains of broken homes, tastes the ash coating her tongue with each inhale. She’s alive, and they aren’t, and it hurts.

She does not see Papyrus move to speak, does not notice Averia catch his eye and shake her head, nor the confused look he sends his aunt’s way before closing his mouth once more.

Finally, she moves. She places Abe’s arm at his side and pushes herself to her feet. She staggers, legs gone asleep in the time she spent kneeling beside his body. The arm that dashes her tears from her eyes comes away stained with ash.

“There are a lot of things I wanted to say to you Abe. I could tell you that you were one of the first people I was close to, aside from my sibling. Or that I could be here for the next year just listing off every great thing about you. But you wouldn’t want that. You’d want us to be out there stopping Asriel. So even though…. even though I want to give up, I’m going to go, and we’re going to save everyone we can, just like you would’ve.” Ferrin stops, reminds herself to breathe, steels herself, “I’ll be back for you soon.”

With that she turns and ducks outside. There she finds that Gaster is idly observing the sky, while an ancient looking Asgore stands beside an equally worn Toriel. As she approaches, she catches the last of his words.

“-eels like it did back then, doesn’t it?”

“It does. The entire city on fire and we incapable of stopping it.”

Asgore sighs heavily, every one of his years carrying on the exhalation. “This is not how we should have come back to the surface.”

“It was the only way we could have once you declared war. Death and fire were what you consigned to us when you killed that child,” Toriel spits.

She looks ready to continue and Asgore seems unable to bring himself to stop her. Ferrin cuts in. “We need to go.”

They turn to look at her, concerned. Toriel speaks first. “Child, you do not need to go with us. Stay with your friend if you so wish.”

“No. Abe would’ve told me to go if he could have. Every second we spend here is one we could be using to save the people that As- that Flowey is killing right now.”

Toriel flinches at the near mention of her son’s name. She closes her eyes, and when they open again they’re bright and fierce. “You are right. Asriel must be stopped. No matter how- how scared and alone he must have been after what Doctor Alphys did, we cannot excuse his actions now. But how are we going to find him?”

“That would be my job,” Gaster interrupts, still observing the sky. “He is roughly fifteen miles north-east, destroying some human city much larger than this hovel. Assuming that you are done wasting time it should take me a minute or two to rewire these cars.”

“Then get started,” Ferrin snaps. She’s not going to bother asking how he knows, knowing his answer will be mocking and ultimately useless.

“Oh my, the human has found her backbone,” he drawls.

“And if you don’t listen to her, my sword will be finding yours,” Averia says, coming to stand beside Ferrin and glaring at Gaster.

Gaster responds by rolling his eyes and moving to the nearest intact vehicle, a Jeep Ferrin recognizes as belonging to the son of a nice older couple that lived across the street from Abe. As he works on getting them cars Undyne and Mettaton return from their excursion. The otherwise over-the-top pair are subdued. When Asgore asks about their trip, they just shake their heads.

The group is mostly quiet, giving Ferrin concerned glances often enough that she finds herself drifting away to be left alone. After a moment, she hears footsteps follow her.

“Are you alright?” Papyrus asks quietly.

“Doesn’t matter.” Ferrin gestures at the battered town around them. “You know, my sib and I only moved here about two years ago. They’d finally made it big in the writing world and could afford the repairs our place needed. The locals didn’t like our uncle, and we didn’t really belong here, but it was the first time we had a home that felt like we were welcome there. It’s probably gone now. Abe is gone. ______ is gone. It’s just me now.”

“We are going to get _______ back. We could do the same for Abe,” Papyrus suggests.

Ferrin hesitates. “I don’t know Papyrus. What if he was right? What if there’s something beyond this and he’s there and happy? What if we bring him back when he was happier there?”

“I… I do not have the answer to that.”

“I know. Neither do I.”

When Undyne shouts for everyone to pile into the cars the guards that arrived during the wait get into the largest pickup trucks that were available, driven by Toriel, Asgore, and Undyne. Ferrin and Sans take the wheels of the two Jeeps carrying their friends. As such, she can’t close her eyes or look away when she drives past the scattered bones of the house that had become her home. If anyone notices her tears they don’t comment.

Along the way they can see evidence of Asriel’s destruction. Trees are torn down, portions of the forest on fire. Ferrin finds herself glad that it has been a particularly rainy year. Some of the landscape would survive.

As they get closer to the city they can see pillars of smoke clouding the air. The many houses built along the outskirts are in various states of destruction, the road so torn in places that Ferrin has to wonder if Gaster had chosen vehicles good for off-roading for that reason.

They eventually reach a large park hemmed in by the business district’s skyscrapers and Sans signals that he’s pulling over. Ferrin, confused, follows him into the park and stops her car beside his. The cars behind her follow.

“What’s going on?” she asks, stepping out.

“The roads are full of the buildings he’s knocked down up ahead,” Sans explains. “And we don’t wanna let him choose where we fight him.”

“Yup!” Undyne says. “That corridor was bad news because we couldn’t move around. But here, we have all the room we need to crush him!”

Her enthusiasm feels forced, but still appreciated. Ferrin frowns, seeing a too obvious flaw in the plan. “If we’re not coming to him, how are we going to get him to come to us?”

“I’m gonna lure him over,” Sans says.

“When did we plan this?” Papyrus asks.

“Over the phone. Sorry we didn’t include you guys,” Sans says. “Couldn’t figure out the group call thing.”

“While Sans works to lure him here, we will prepare ourselves. Alphys has plans for several traps, and Gaster needs time to set his machine,” Asgore says.

Everyone in agreement, Sans disappears in the direction of the strangely rainbow tinted lights and distant crashing that they assume to be Asriel. Gaster withdraws his machine from the void and begins fiddling with it. Asgore and Undyne speak quietly with an unfamiliar, elderly turtle monster for a minute before approaching the rest.

“We believe it will be in our best interest to break into groups,” Asgore begins. “The first will be headed by myself, with one third of the guards alongside me. Undyne will take another group. The last will be lead by Gerson. The fourth group will consist of those remaining who can fight. Frisk, Ferrin, Alphys and Gaster will not be active participants, but working to ensure that the machine is running and undamaged. I would ask Averia to stay with them, along with seven guards that Undyne and I have chosen. Speak with myself, Undyne, or Gerson to learn your designation.”

The group of guards breaks up into a surprisingly orderly mass as they move to follow their king’s orders. Ferrin makes her way out of the milling bodies to stand next to Frisk. She notes how tired they look, fear obviously the last thought on their mind.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” she asks.

Sorta. They don’t seem inclined to elaborate.

“Thank we’ve got a chance?”

Frisk nods. I do. I just… don’t know how many of us will be okay at the end of it.

“It’s gonna be okay. We’re here to make it be okay.” She’s not sure she believes that any more.

They don’t respond for a long time. I'm sorry about Abe. He seemed nice.

“He was.”

Not a second later they’re swept into the planning, people moving and rearranging themselves. Their group ends up near the western end of the park, the direction furthest away from the approaching sounds of Asriel’s destruction. Gaster is focused entirely on his machine. He doesn’t even have any biting commentary about Averia leading the smallest group of guards.

Alphys joins him a moment later and he puts her to work typing something into the keypad. They work in feverish tandem as the sounds of destruction that herald Asriel’s approach move nearer. The machine begins to glow with flickering lights just as Asriel makes his entrance. Frisk had warned them, but it doesn’t prepare Ferrin for the sight of the forty plus foot tall goat man. He doesn’t look much like either of his parents with the black markings on his fur and the narrow, cruelly pointed horns growing from the top of his head. She can’t see him well from where she is but he looks to be holding some sort of rainbow sword, magic attacks raining down on the trees and obliterating them. Some catch fire as he passes. For a moment she’s convinced that he’s spotted them, but the next second he’s cackling as he wards off a plethora of magical attacks from the four attacking groups.

She looks back at the machine they’re guarding. Alphys and Gaster are still fine-tuning it, their fingers moving over keyboards and screens that flash with symbols she can’t read.

“How do we get the souls out?” Ferrin asks. She’s nearly shouting to be heard over the clamor at the other side of the park.

“Well that would be the difficulty part. I suppose we’ll see whether or not I made the changes that I thought I did,” Gaster replies.

“What?” Alphys shrieks, fingers hovering over the machine as she stares at him in shock.

He scoffs, shoving her aside as he works to finish the last minute preparation. In the distance, one of Asriel’s attacks vaporizes the top half of a skyscraper as well as the helicopter that was hovering near it.

“What does that mean?” Ferrin demands, feeling hysteria rising in her chest.

“I may have chosen not to mention that none of the versions of myself have yet gotten this to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Wanna hear a bad joke)
> 
> (Abe is an angel)
> 
> (ahhh I'm not funny)
> 
> On the one hand, I got a job at Joann's about a month and a half ago and got accepted into my 4-year school of choice (mostly chosen for proximity to my house, ngl) so yay. On the other, it's Black Friday, I lost my medical insurance card and I haven't been on my depression medication in weeks, I found out with two weeks to go in this semester that I bought the wrong textbook and that's why I thought my prof was giving us nonsense book pages, self-harm is looking more and more tempting as I become less and less capable of managing my own emotions, and I haven't done my linguistics homework in... probably a month. It's worth 45% of my grade. I'm an English major. I need that class.
> 
> End me.
> 
> Also trust me when I say I'm really damn sorry this story is taking so long. You've all read my explanations so I won't reiterate, but if you're looking for more stuff to read and you don't particularly care if it's a fandom you're familiar with, I'm pretty happy with my Prey (2017) story. It's fun, the characters are interesting, if diversity is your thing Six's nb, several characters are bisexual, and at least one is gay, and you really don't need to know anything about Prey to enjoy it. It's got 3 chapters and 56,666 words (I swear, I didn't plan that) (even if the coincidence is pretty funny) with chapter four about halfway done. No romance, lots of action, and some reflection on what exactly it means to be a person. Cool stuff.


	60. Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the first chapter of the Christmas update! It is going up on Christmas day but I hope that everyone had a great winter holiday no matter what you celebrate and if that so happens to be nothing then happy New Year a few days early. May 2018 be kinder than this year has been.

It is strange for them to think of the thing at the other end of the field of grass and trees as Asriel. Their brother died when he was still very, very young, by both monster and human standards. Their memories of him are of a bright eyed, fluffy child whose horns had just barely begun to push through his fur. He did not tower forty feet in the air. He did not have wickedly curved horns above blood red eyes and black striped fur. That Asriel would never even have dreamed of a real fight against his father’s guards, or desired anything other than playful wrestling with his father. He wouldn’t have laughed and mocked that same father as he tried to rally his guards to save what little human life was left in the city.

Some part of Chara wonders if maybe they’d left a part of themself in their brother that was inspiring this evil now. Frisk, as with every time their mind wanders to dark places, tells them that it isn’t their fault.

The hand in theirs tightens and they look up to find Toriel looking at the battle with a conflicted expression. She winces as another monster is struck by the multicolored stars raining from the sky. Cries of pain reach them and she shudders, teeth grit as she makes her decision.

“My child,” she begins, looking down at them, “I am afraid that I cannot stay here. Regardless of what has transpired over these last centuries, he is my son… I would be remiss if I did not do my part to end his rampage.”

Chara doesn’t know what to say, and Frisk is as off put as they are. This isn’t how their battle is supposed to go. Isn’t how it has gone, no matter how many resets they subjected the world to. Normally, they have all of the answers, but right now they have nothing. And only one chance to make the right choice.

“Toriel,” Averia says suddenly, startling them with her proximity. “Are you certain that you can fight him?”

The wary concern in her tone makes Toriel pause. “I… If, perhaps, I was stronger, maybe I could. But I am afraid that is not the case. I cannot fight my son with the intent to kill even as he is now.”

“Then don’t go. We can’t afford to have you die on us and if you aren’t going to fight you will die.”

“I am not going to fight. I am going to help the wounded. I may no longer be their queen, but this is what I was trained for, Averia.”

“Several hundred years ago. You can’t go out there alone.”

“I was not aware that you were given permission to hand me orders,” Toriel says sharply.

Averia almost laughs. “Asgore wouldn’t dare to try. Look, at least take some of the guards here with you.”

“I do not wish to take away from your defenses…”

“Your other option is to have me tailing you.” The tone of her voice doesn’t make clear whether that is a threat or a promise.

“Ah. In that case, perhaps it would be best if you sent the guards with me instead.”

Averia does a very poor job of not looking smug as she turns back to the monsters under her command. A moment later two of them break away from the group and jog towards Toriel, pausing a few feet away and saluting. One begins to say something grand about serving his queen until the other elbows him and reminds him that she’s not the queen anymore, dude. Toriel nods and thanks both of them before stooping down in front of Chara. She looks worn and tired, but she puts on a smile for them. They smile back and hold out their arms for a hug.

“Be safe, my child,” she whispers, holding them close. It takes all of their willpower not to reach after her as she rises, turning her sharp eyes towards the horror that her son has become. A moment later she’s gone. The guards have to rush to catch up. It would be comical if they weren’t running off to fight Chara’s brother.

Frisk tugs impatiently on their attention, dragging the body’s eyes back to Asriel. He’s grimacing at something, braced as a ring of fire tightens around him. An instant later he’s grinning as a giant, glittering shield blocks the attack. Other smaller attacks simply bounce off as he cackles. He’s about to begin a counterattack when Sans’ goat/dragon/demon skulls appear from nowhere. For an instant they feel ice running through their veins as the thrum of the lasers charging vibrates through the air. The blue light blasts into the shield and Asriel is pushed back, his claws dragging trenches into the ground, but his shield does not fail. The lasers falter and taper off, skulls vanishing. Asriel grins broadly and shrugs, palms in the air. His expression doesn’t change even as more skulls appear. They circle him, hovering stationary as they charge. For an instant they can’t see anything. The entire world is a blindingly bright blue that has them shielding their eyes in pain.

They’re still trying to blink the light out of their eyes when Asriel roars. The earth under their feet quakes from the wave of magic released with the sound. Behind them, Alphys gasps as Ferrin curses, startled.

They turn to look at the machine that’s supposed to save them. It’s an even larger version of the demon skull things that they’re familiar with. It’s strangely less threatening though. The eyes are unlit, the gaping maw revealing no too bright light even as the panels on its sides glow brightly. Behind and beside it Gaster and Alphys work. Alphys is messing with something deep inside while Ferrin holds onto the parts she’d had to move out of the way. She glances up when she notices them looking at her.

“Hey Frisk. You doing okay?”

She looks more scared than they are, glancing at the fight in front of them despite her best efforts not to. She’s also pale and ashy looking, weary in a way they don’t like. They try on a smile that feels strange on their face anyways, giving her a thumbs up.

“Glad to hear it. Are you sure you shouldn-”

“Ferrin, parts please,” Alphys interrupts.

Ferrin hurries to hand them back. Chara almost returns their attention to the battle before Gaster slams the back panel shut. Alphys jumps and closes the section she was working on much more quietly. She hits her head on the keyboard extending out above her as she goes to straighten, muttering a word Chara is pretty sure they weren’t supposed to hear.

“Is it done?” Gaster asks, striding around to look.

“I th-th-think so.”

“Good. Move.”

Gaster’s eye lights scan the screen above the keys, where numbers and letters have begun to appear. It’s moving too quickly for Chara to understand but it seems to mean something to him. His fingers fly over the keys with a practiced ease.

“Alphys,” he snaps suddenly, a loading screen taking over for the string of numbers and letters, “Get someone to tell the king that we’re ready on our end.”

Alphys scurries off to do just that. Chara envies the relief on her face at getting to escape the former Royal Scientist.

 _I really, really hate him,_ they comment.

 _He’s not very nice,_ Frisk replies diplomatically.

Chara groans. _He’s a lot more than just not nice Frisk._

 _Really really not nice?_ they ask with faux innocence. They laugh at Chara’s groan.

Alphys is breathing just a tick harder than normal when she returns. Gaster ignores her entirely. Frisk waves at her cheerily and gets a tiny smile in return. Another roar from Asriel startles Alphys and she jumps, frightened eyes returning to the battle. The magical shockwave is shorter this time and Frisk only has to steady themself for a second before they too turn to look. Asriel is again struggling to fend off a focused laser blast from Sans-

 _Sans is okay,_ Frisk whispers. _He’s got a lot more than this._

 _I wasn’t worried!_ Chara snarls.

Frisk does a poor job of hiding their amusement.

-sliding backwards as his shield defends him. He’s practically radiating fury at this point. His rage only grows as Asgore’s fires push him back further. The fires die and are replaced by a barrage of attacks from every other monster present. Asriel actually leaps back to avoid the brunt of it in an effort to prolong the life of his shield. His right foot crushes a row of low growing bushes as he is forced to back towards them. Chara can feel everyone guarding the machine tense as he moves closer, unaware.

A tiny tap of the keyboard is the only warning that they get before the machine behind them flares to life. Its humming is more powerful than the blasters’, rattling them down to their bones as it charges. If Asriel hears it he gives no indication. Spheres of light spread out from his body, hovering high in the air. The monsters below scatter, running as the spheres unleash pillar like lasers. Some monsters fall into the holes created by the first round as the second round of lasers pierce the air. Chara can hear them screaming as the next volley incinerates them. Some get back up. Some don’t.

The sick feeling in their stomach at the realization is nothing compared to the sudden plunge of their gut as the machine they’ve pinned their hopes on fires. It’s a cannon amplified a million times over, the light pouring from its gaping mouth bright white. The longer they look at it the stranger they feel. It’s almost like it’s only half-visible, something in it invisible to their eyes.

It hits Asriel a moment later. He screams, instantly crumpling to his hands and knees. The vast glittering shield shatters like breaking glass a moment later. Asriel shrieks again. In the bright light of the machine’s blast, seven souls flicker into being in front of Asriel. The outer circle contains the six children’s souls, all blazing with their inidvidual section of the rainbow. Inside, unprotected by its diamond shield, flames faint and flickering, is _______’s soul. Chara gasps, hearing the sound echoed behind them.

_Frisk…_

_I know._ Determination wells from their soul, pulsing bright and hot. _But we can’t give up here._

_Of course not. What should we do?_

Frisk has no snappy answer to this question, and Chara understands why. Technically, there is nothing that they should be doing. The machine is supposed to do all of the work. It should get the souls back, should return _____ to them….

Behind them, they hear a whisper. “Alphys… does it look like the souls are losing their color to you?”

They can’t hear her answer, attention caught by the strange pulsing of the bottommost soul. It flares brighter than the rest, violet glow catching and tinting the souls around it. And suddenly, they were no longer two, but three. The third presence is much fainter than their own and doesn’t drain Frisk the way that they do. It feels older, wiser, more tired. Frisk notices but doesn’t panic. They’re much harder to startle than they used to be.

_Chara. Frisk._

The voice is like theirs, whispering through their connected minds.

 _Who are you?_ Chara demands, defensive.

_I am afraid my name would mean little to you. I am the purple souled child. The why and how is unimportant. That machine is dangerous. It is killing Asriel, and it is killing us._

_What?!_

_The doctor has lied. Please, help us._

Now they can feel Frisk panicking. _What do we do?_

 _Destroy it,_ the purple souled child says, their voice vanishing from their minds as their presence fades.

Frisk and Chara are equally frozen for a moment before they both leap to action. They don’t know which one of them turns to the machine and charges for it, forming a plan of attack the last thing on their mind. Their eyes are locked on the machine right up until s wall of bone halts their charge and they stumble to a stop.

“And what, exactly, are you trying to do you little rat?”

The bones disappear to reveal Gaster staring down at them. He looks as though he’s trying to work out a difficult puzzle, one he’s close to solving.

They move back instinctually. I just want to help protect the machine.

“Oh really? How kind of you… _Chara._ ”

“How did you know?” they ask.

“You are a very poor actor. Now. Answers.”

“I told you-”

“You’re lying. I do not appreciate liars.”

“You must really hate yourself then.”

 _Chara,_ Frisk whispers, _We need to hurry._

_I know._

They glare up at Gaster, creating and throwing away plans as fast as they can. Finally, they grin. Their lips stretch just a little too wide, feral. Gaster instantly takes a step back.

“What are you planning, you little-”

Chara screams. Their shrill voice rises over the sounds of the fight as they fall back, landing hard on their butt. Then, they scream once again. “HELP!”

Gaster’s eye sockets widen, fear crossing his face as he stumbles back. The next instant the space where he was is filled with two sets of bone shards, another set melding with a wall of fire to create a burning barrier that blocks them from his sight. The fires are clearly burning in two different colors.

“Oh for the love of- Ow!”

The fires flicker down and disappear, bones fading into nothing. Instead, they can see Gaster, arms folded and glaring in their direction, held at bay by Mom, Papyrus, and Averia. Mom looks angrier than they’ve ever seen her. Her hair is all on end, her lips lifted to reveal teeth sharper than they’d thought they would be, fire dancing on her fingers and flaring from her feet. Averia looks more solemn but no less intense as her bone attacks hover in the air around her, her sword blazing a violent violet in her hands. Papyrus is uncharacteristically stern as he faces down his creator. There aren’t any weapons around him yet, but the magic crackling on his fingertips promises that that can change. Most surprising of all is Alphys. She looks terrified but that isn’t stopping the electricity that’s arcing over her clawed hands. The furious glance that Gaster shoots her way has her flinching but refusing to step down. Ferrin, beside her, balls her fists and raises them like she thinks she can do something. Frisk at least is impressed by her determination.

Gaster rolls his eye lights. “You do realize all of you are pathetic enough to be easily manipulated by a child, yes?”

“We will not let you hurt Frisk,” Toriel declares. “You are a vile, disgusting man and I should never have left them within your reach.”

Gaster scoffs and begins a mocking reply, but Chara is no longer listening. They pick themself up and run. They pass Toriel and barely dodge Gaster’s grasping hand. He lets out a pained shout an instant later that they ignore. They dart up to Alphys, who reels back as they grab hold of her lab coat.

“We need to stop the machine!” they plead.

“W-w-w-w… what? Why?” Alphys stutters, electricity dying in her confusion.

“Please! We just have to, it’s important!”

Alphys looks uncertainly around like she’s hoping for help. “Uhm… well…. I-I d-d-d-don’t know….”

“Frisk, how do you know that?” Ferrin asks, confusion in her eyes.

“Alphys? Frisk? What is going on?” Papyrus asks. He appears in their field of vision, coming to stand next to Alphys. He looks at them strangely for an instant before his eyes widen. Chara feels freezing cold fear trickle down their spine.

“You… are not Frisk,” Papyrus says slowly. Ferrin looks up at him in confusion and then back at them, eyes wide.

Chara takes a deep breath, then, pushed on by gentle encouragement from Frisk, nods. “No, I’m not.”

They’re about to continue when Frisk softly but insistently pushes them aside to take control of the body. Their words are halting, uncertain after going unspoken for so long. Their fingers twitch with the desire to speak their words in the only way they feel comfortable with. “Papy. They’re right. The machine is bad.”

Exhausted, they sink back to the background and Chara is back at the front. They blink in surprise, concerned for Frisk but more concerned with the look on Papyrus’ face. It’s strangely reminiscent of Gaster’s - thoughtful, like he’s almost finished the puzzle. When his expression settles, he just looks determined.

“I trust you. Both of you. Now, what needs to be done?” he asks.

“We have to turn it off,” they say, looking pleadingly up at Alphys. “How do we turn it off?”

Alphys looks uncertainly up at Papyrus, then to Ferrin. Ferrin gives her an encouraging nod. “I trust Frisk, and I trust their friend.”

She hesitates for a moment longer before nodding, decision made. She hurries over to a panel on the side, drawing a screwdriver from her pocket. As she works to remove the cover she says, “My electricity might be able to handle this, but I th-th-think that it would be b-b-best to use bone attacks. Papyrus, c-can you d-d-do it?”

“But of course! It will be no trouble for me. Is there anything in particular that I should aim for?” he asks curiously, eyeing the revealed inner workings of the machine.

“No!” Gaster shrieks. They look over to find him pressed to the floor under Averia’s foot, burn marks over his arms and hands, which look to be bound behind him. He struggles to rise, pushing up with his arms only to be sent crashing back into the dirt when Averia increases the pressure on his shoulder blades. “You can’t! You idiots you’ll ruin everything! This world will end, or have you not been listening!?”

“And why should we trust you over them?” Ferrin demands. “You’re a liar, and you sent _______ to their death!”

“Do you know what Chara has done?” Gaster shouts, desperate. “Do you?”

“Yeah, they helped us survive the murder glitch things you sent us to fight, and they just protected Frisk from you-”

“And they killed monsters. Over, and over, and over. How many times did they kill you, Papyrus?” Gaster spits.

Chara shrinks in on themself. They have a million justifications, hundreds of excuses, words upon words to describe the thoughts that had taken them to the dark place they’d been in when they’d been a murderer. Back then it had been enough. But now, with Frisk there and present and guilt ridden from mistakes Chara had forced them to make, surrounded by people that they’d tricked into caring for them… There’s nothing more to say.

“Many more times than I can count. However, it seems to me that they are trying to make reparations. Am I correct, tiny human?”

Chara looks up to find Papyrus looking at them. It’s strange, to them, the way that he can convey his meaning without words. They’d always needed a mountain of words to convey their own feelings, but here and now they can read what he is saying. He’s forgiving them. And the only thing he needs from them is their word that they will try to be better. Because he genuinely believes that if they say that they will, they will do their best to keep that promise.

Gods, they still can’t stand Sans, but he’d obviously done something right when he’d raised his little brother.

“I am,” they say, trying to get their voice to carry an ounce of the sincerity that they feel.

“Then I believe in you. Alphys, what do I need to do?”

“I-It should work n-n-no matter where, but aim for, um… Here?” she says, gesturing weakly towards a set of wires. The bone Papyrus summons is long and sharply pointed, hovering in the air in front of the mystery machine.

“No!” Gaster calls, voice choked.

His calls go unheeded. The attack sinks deep into the machinery, wires snapping, metal screaming, sparks exploding outwards. The bright white beam of light falters, once, twice, again. They raise their arms to protect their eyes from the bright lights.

A moment later it’s over. The machine dies with a final, high pitched whine. The beam firing from its open jaws falters and fades out. Asriel stays on the ground where he fell, breathing heavily. The monsters that were fighting him are shouting, confusion tearing through the ranks. Some of them summon their attacks again, but no one seems entirely certain of what is going on.

Before anyone can get their wits together a rainbow sword shears through the remains of the machine. Either side falls away, hitting the dusty dirt with a sense of finality. Asriel roars. The sky behind him lights up, swirling with magic slowly forming into a flurry of stars pulsing with the colors of the rainbow. The air is electrified, Chara’s throat thick with the magic coming off of him.

Frisk does not waver. Their heart beats determination through their shared veins. _But we refused._

A shout tears through their throat. “Asriel!”

Asriel cackles, his stars lighting up the sky and reflecting off of his fur in an angry blaze of color. “Frisk! So good to see you here!”

“I….” Their voice breaks, trails off, comes back stronger than ever. “I’m not Frisk.”

“Oh please, Frisk, we went over this. I already know you’re not them. Besides, didn’t you hear what I said? I don’t care about Chara any more. Now, if you’re done-”

“I’m so, so sorry, Azzy. I know I wasn’t the sibling you deserved.” Deep breath in, deep breath out, take comfort in the mental hug Frisk is sending their way. “I was scared. I’d just lost my brother, and my dad, and my mom, and I should’ve died with them and I didn’t-”

“SHUT UP!” Asriel roars, the earth itself shaking with the force of his anger. They stagger, fall to one knee, look up at the giant god-like being that is looming over them with his deadly attacks threatening to kill everyone there, and all they can see is a lonely, scared Asriel twisted so far that they don’t know if he can be helped. “You aren’t them, and you never will be, and I hate you for pretending to be them!”

The stars are hurtling down now, aiming for their tiny, weak self, and all they can think to say is, “I love you, Azzy.”

Another earth-shattering scream, but this one is equal parts pain and anger. Asriel falls to his knees, clawed hands digging deep into the earth, pain written across his face, tears in his eyes. And once again, they can see the souls pulsing in his chest. Green and indigo are dark, stars dying in a black sky. Purple and cyan are blazing suns, yellow and orange fading compared to their brilliance.

And there, hiding in the center, is a single, hollow heart. The flames that should be lit in its center are reduced to a dull and faded yellow mist.

It looks dead.

Chara can’t breathe but they can move. They stagger forward until they’re running as fast as their short legs will carry them. Frisk’s determination fuels them, their spirit urging their body forward until they reach Asriel. Their fingers bury themselves into his fur, touching warm, living skin underneath. Determination surges through their body, filling their veins, pushing their will onto the world, and their spirit into Asriel. Frisk wishes them good luck in their silent way as they disappear from their mind.

The space they find themself in is dark. They’re standing on flat, level ground that they can’t see. It’s vertigo inducing, but the other standing in the otherwise empty space is plenty enough to distract them.

It’s you, of course.

After all of this, somehow, they still know it’s you.

You’re standing like you’d been drained of all of the energy in your body, arms and hands hanging limply by your side. Your face is obscured by ever-shifting blocks of white, black, and grey. They don’t think that you’ve noticed them yet. At least, there are no attacks filling the space that the two of you are standing in.

They call your name into the void and receive no response. Cautiously, they step closer. “_______? Can you hear me?”

“I failed…..”

The words are faint, uneven, your voice shaking like you’re falling apart. Something in them breaks at the sound.

“No!” they shout, “You didn’t! You saved Ferrin, and you saved Papyrus, and you let all of them get away.”

“I hurt them…. I left them….”

“But we know why you did it!”

“I gave up.”

Self-loathing as strong as Chara’s fills the air, fills their spirit, floods the space that they’re standing in. In it they can feel your condemnation of your actions.

“I knew that my sister needed me, when I left my parents’ house. I knew she needed me when I left to go underground. I knew she would need me when I ran to my death. I abandoned her anyways.”

Chara grinds their teeth, surprised to feel the sensation instead of just the intent. “You know, that always pissed me off about you. Is she your sister, or is she your kid? You’re not responsible for what your parents did! You went underground because somebody needed to and you died because you thought it was going to help us. So what if you messed up? You’re human, it’s what we do!”

A waver of uncertainty in the guilt-hate-despair that’s battering them, but only for a moment.“I left them. I left them all because I am a coward.”

Chara’s lips curl into a snarl. They forget to be afraid as they stalk towards you, furious. “Shut up! There’s nothing cowardly about choosing to die! I- they- you- Argh! Nobody just decides to die one day! It’s this huge pile of junk, and they put it all on your shoulders, and you feel like if you let anybody know then you’ve failed and, and there’s nothing wrong with feeling like you want to stop being alive! Sometimes the people around you don’t know what to do either and that’s not their fault either!”

They jab their finger into your chest on the last word, trying to stare up into the eyes that they currently can’t see. You take a step back, the static over your face flickering too quickly for them to see past it, then solidifies.

This time, another voice speaks. It’s young, not any older than their own, but filled with malice they haven’t felt in hundreds of resets. “Whose fault is it, then?”

They whip around, but the presence that accompanied the voice is already gone. At its words, the waves of emotions seeping out of you have intensified. The feeling of guilt is back full force, hammering on the hours upon hours that they and Frisk spent talking, spent working through their respective difficulties.

“I… It isn’t your fault, _______!” they cry, reaching out a hand like they’re hoping you’ll take the lifeline they’re offering instead of standing there blankly. “Please, just... come back with me? Ferrin needs you now, _______! Papyrus, and Mom, and Undyne, and Alphys, and Asgore, and Sans, they all need you! Right now!”

You don’t respond.

“I-” Their voice breaks, the tears that were building in their eyes fall, their arms wrap around their torso like they think maybe it will erase the sense of emptiness growing in their chest. “ _I_ need you.”

Chara’s voice breaks, their legs falling out from under them, collapsing to the floor as they sob. Useless, helpless, stupid Chara. They let their brother die, and their parents, reignited the monster-human war, are the sole reason Asriel was killed, and now they’ve failed to save one of the few humans that could help fix their crimes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's like midday in the story but I decided I wanted a little melodrama in the chapter names because that is who I am as a person. 
> 
> Also, we've finally reached the point where I feel comfortable saying how many chapters we have left. Only five more to go, can you believe it? I suppose I'm glad that it isn't going to take me another year to finish this story (and an immense thank you to everyone who's stuck with me thus far!) but it still feels strange to be ending it. It's been such a huge part of my life... But hey, no need to get sentimental yet! We've got a ways to go!


	61. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEY
> 
> YOU
> 
> YES, you. If you're reading this chapter, make sure that you've read chapter 60! These two chapters are going up on the same day for a winter holiday special so please be sure that you've read chapter 60 before this one.
> 
> And with that, please return to your regularly scheduled reading.

It is dark. It has been dark for a long time- no, only a few moments… Or maybe longer.

It finds that it does not care. It did not care when pain lanced through its body, energy leaving it in a torrent.

Just as it does not care when it is very abruptly not alone. It does not notice until the other thing begins to speak to it. The thing is loud. It does not like the loud thing, because the loud thing brings with it other things. Things that prickle in their chest like a limb coming back to life, that tease at the edge of their glacially slow thoughts.

It does not know when it started speaking, but it does notice when the other jabs a finger into its chest. The action is at once familiar and alien and they do not like it. They are about to respond to the rude child when a wave of peace washes over them. There is no need to speak, because there is nothing to speak about. It does not need to acknowledge the thing in there with it. If it does, the horrors on the edge of its thoughts might spring to life. It may not know what the horrors are, but it does know that it does not want anything to do with them.

No, this feeling of empty floating, this existence that isn’t… it is what is best.

And still the thing will not be quiet. It is being loud again, loud enough to catch its attention. It is crying. Strange. It sparks something deep within the fog, seeing that short brown hair, those flushed cheeks, that loose yellow and green striped sweater. It reminds it of noises, syllables strung across its thoughts that it is just bothered enough at its lack of ability to remember to search for.

“Ch...a…..ra….”

Its mouth moves. The sounds are unfamiliar, yet they feel… right.

“Cha...ra.”

The sounds mean something. There is a reason they know this sound.

“Chara.”

The sound is a name.

A name attached to a person.

An important person.

Light flickers from below them, bright, dark, bright again. It looks down to find a faint crystalline heart shape in its chest, a heart that bravely flickers on again, lighting up in gold for a second before the flames within shorten and lose their power. The person across from it lets out a cry that it does not acknowledge, too absorbed in the fact that it is feeling… something.

It does not like that the heart is so pale. It should not look like that. It does not know why but it knows this.

It looks up at another sound from the other, something it thinks may be irritation sparking at the interruption. That irritation falters and is replaced by concern as it sees the other has fallen, their face buried in their hands as they cry. Something strange is hovering around them, something that is blocks of white and black that does not belong.

This too is bad. They are beginning to wonder why there is so much bad. This person should not be crying. And if they are crying, then so are others. Others without names, without true forms or faces, but they know that they are important. Important enough that they should know their names. They’re on the tip of their tongue, hanging there, waiting for them to remember, but there’s something there, something in them that does not want to surface.

And normally, they think they would let that something win. They would give in and allow nothing to change. But there is something else there, something stronger than whatever wants to remain ignorant. That something whispers that they already know who Chara is.

Of course you do.

You fall to your knees beside them and sweep them into your arms. They’re so tiny, thin and even younger than you’d always pictured them being. You stroke their hair, whispering, “Chara. Oh, Chara, I’m so sorry.”

They choke out something that sounds vaguely like your name and you nod.

“Yeah, kiddo, it’s really me. I’m back. You brought me back.”

Chara shudders and pulls back, watery eyes searching yours. Whatever is there makes them suck in a deep breath and dash the tears from their eyes. They take a step back and look around fearfully before grabbing your hand. They drag you to your feet, pulling your arm with all of their strength. You stumble to your feet and follow behind, confused.

“Chara, where are we going?” you ask.

“Out of here. We need to go,” they insist.

“Where is here?”

“Asriel took your soul. We’re in him.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, memories clearing up. “But where are we going to?”

“Outside!”

“And how-”

“Hello Chara, _______.”

The two of you jerk to a stop as a shimmering shape appears in front of you. The figure is vaguely outlined in purple, glowing just enough to cast a halo of light around themself. They’re wearing a long, sweeping dress, their hair loose around their shoulders. Scratched, crooked glasses rest on the bridge of their nose. One hand is loosely wrapped around a thick leather-bound journal.

They smile. “Thank you, Chara, for stopping that machine. You did well in assisting in ______’s return to reality as well.”

“Why are you here?” Chara demands.

“I shall assume you mean why I am in this space. I am here to help you set this right.”

“I don’t know you,” you say, suspicious. “I was in everyone’s memories but yours. How do we know we can trust you?”

“You will not know until you accept my offer.”

“What are you offering exactly?”

“The power of my soul.”

“A human soul can’t absorb a human soul.”

“No, they cannot. But a human with your powers can connect souls and their power to create a greater whole.”

“I can?”

The purple soul chuckles. “Yes. I am afraid you do not have much time to decide - the battle outside is drawing to its conclusion and without us there I am afraid it can only end in disaster. Please, _______. Trust me.”

If anyone asked you for an explanation for your decision, for the logic behind it, you wouldn’t have been able to give it to them. But as you took hold of their extended hand, you held no more doubts.

You’re flooded with her the instant that your souls touch. She is a sad child, laughter carrying on wind, pages rustling in a private library. She is a well of power older than herself, older, perhaps, than the earth that clung to her hems as she climbed. She is a confusing, half-hidden memory of a very long talk with a tall hooded figure aboard a slender boat in a dark tunnel. She is...

Mae.

You don’t realize you’ve said it aloud until she gives you a bright smile. “That is my name, yes.”

Chara calls your name uncertainly, eyeing Mae. As one, you and Mae offer your hands to them.

“Let’s go, Chara. We have to help them, don’t we?” you ask.

Their hesitation is gone in an instant, replaced by fire burning behind their eyes. You can feel their swell of determination as they take the offered hands. “Let’s go.”

Mae’s cast spell breaks the three of you from Asriel’s grip in an instant. You find yourself staggering to your feet in a field of what might have once been well kept grass. In the distance you can see holes torn into the earth, trees bent and broken, and farther away a city in shambles.

But more immediately, you can see Asriel. He is on his hands and knees, expression pained as he grasps at his chest with one hand. As he gasps you draw on your strength and Mae’s, a shield extending outwards from you to create a glittering cage many yards wide. It stops just before it touches any of the gathered monsters. Asriel catches sight of the crystalline arena and begins to rise to his feet. You swear that his crimson irises are tainted with cyan light as he shoves himself to his feet, lips and face twisted and cruel.

_______, now, Mae says.

Your magic, amplified by Mae’s and your own newfound hope, connects to the souls of everyone in the park in an instant. Mae directs you so that the emotions of the others do not overwhelm but instead buoy you up. Their power is laid bare to you, and suddenly you understand just how much more powerful human souls are than monster souls. Ferrin and Frisk feel like forest fires to the dying heat of a mug forgotten on the counter that are the multitude of monster souls all around.

It is impossible for them to mistake who you are as the very essence of your being reaches out to them. They may not understand, they may be worried, but they give you want you are asking for all the same. Power flows through you, strengthening the golden glow of your body. Subtle silvers, bright violet, deep green, dark and light red chase each other through the human form your soul has created for you.

It is that power that allows you to grow to match Asriel’s size in time to block his rainbow blade with a diamond shield. The force behind his blow makes you stumble back. His second sword swings for your head, whistling through the air to strike a purple, leather bound book. Glasses settle on your nose, a light chain with a heavy metal heart settling heavily over your chest. A heavy wooden handle appears in your hand. You raise your hand - noting the bright pink bandaid stretched across it as you do - to find a spear formed of sturdy wood and a long, dark red blade resting there.

You look up to find Asriel’s eyes fixed on the heart shaped locket around your neck. There’s rising fury in his face.

“You have no right to wear that,” he hisses. Brightly colored magic rises into the top of the dome and is captured there. It begins to form spheres of light.

You dive into a crouch and raise your shield above your head. It catches the first laser, rattling you to the core as it absorbs the damage. Then, just as suddenly, furred fingers catch under the edge and tosses you aside. You hit the walls of your dome and grunt in pain. You just barely get your shield up in time to block the laser coming for your head, but the one that strikes your leg sends a jolt of pain through your body. The glasses refocus your scattered attention in time for you to roll away from Asriel’s sword. It cuts deep into the grass where you were sprawled.

“All that work, and you still don’t stand a chance,” Asriel mocks. This time you’re ready, your shield blocking the laser gun in his hands as you force yourself to stand your ground. When the barrage ceases you charge him, locking his swords in place with your spear. He’s easily stronger than you. Luckily, he’s also cocky in his confidence, and doesn’t immediately shove you back. You call out with all of your power to the souls still within him. When nothing happens, everyone else reaches out with you, the single, unified call of hundreds, insistent and gentle as you call for the lost children.

The strength of Asriel’s swords falters, his expression twisting as he fights against the lost souls. Slowly a near complete rainbow appears above his chest. Red is missing, purple standing with you against Asriel’s barrage. Cyan is blazing like a flood light, shining bright in Asriel’s eyes, fixed on you in fury. You ignore Brandon and focus on the flickering light that is Violet’s green soul.

“Violet!” you cry, watching as the little green soul’s light blazes up in response. “You’re a good kid! You wouldn’t ever hurt anyone, not on purpose, but you’re being used to hurt people now. You were fed lies and you hurt people because of it. But you and I both know that you want to make up for those sins. I have to make up for mine too. Let’s do this - together!”

Fear-Sorrow-Guilt-Desperation.

Your arms waver, shaking under the overbearing pressure that Asriel is putting on them. You grit your teeth. “Please, Violet. Even if they don’t accept your apology - and they will, I know you can feel that they will - you have to do it for yourself. You can’t change that you didn’t stop James. You can change what happens now. You can help me fix this!”

**_I’ll do my best._ **

Asriel chokes, the green soul over his chest blazing brighter as she breaks away from his control. The soul joins yours in your chest, lighter green joining Ferrin’s dark one. Apron straps wrap around your waist, pulling the fabric tight to your torso as a frying pan joins your hands. Together you shove Asriel away. He stumbles before regaining his footing and summoning his stars. This time you raise the shield high over your head, the pan catching the smaller stars that the larger ones break into. This time you’re the one who closes the distance. The pan and your spear lock with Asriel’s swords once again, pushing him to a stalemate. This time, your arms stand strong.

You snarl, locking eyes with Asriel and looking past him. You ignore his sneer as you call out for another soul, the one Violet so desperately wants to see again.

“James! You did a lot of bad, it’s true! But sitting there are feeling guilty isn’t going to change anything. You have to fight him. You have to want to do better! You are not the person your father was - now prove it!”

A new voice chimes in, calling for her dearest friend. _James. I forgive you. I want to drink fruit juice with you, play elves in the forest, talk about comic books, but before that we need to make up for what we’ve done. Please, come back to me._

The yellow soul pulses, light growing stronger. You reach out, your magic connecting to a web of Hurt-Sad-Guilt-Anger and pushing through as James grabs hold, his strength pouring into you. Your soul blazes with bright yellow. You shove Asriel back, pushing until he stumbles. James’ soul does not go with him, left hovering there until you call it. It flies towards you. An old-fashioned revolver appears in the air above your head, a well-loved cowboy hat settling onto your head.

**_I’ll try._ **

James’s soul comes to hover next to Violet’s inside of your chest. _Vi- God, Vi-_

_James._

Sorrow and unspoken hurts and deep-seated guilt in their reunion, but there is also joy and tender feelings as-yet unvoiced and love that survived decades of separation. You feel it, soak it in, breathe in and remember that this is what it is to feel. You’d almost forgotten under Asriel’s influence.

You then extend those feelings to Samuel as Asriel reels at the loss of another soul. You brush up against Pain-Loss-Fury-Loneliness, a child’s broken heart that has had too long to fester and sit and now does not know how to deal with the emotions it is feeling.

“Samuel… You’re hurting. I know that. I can understand it, a little. My parents didn’t love me either, and I used to hate myself for it too. And it hurts! I know it hurts! But if they didn’t love you, that’s their own damn fault! The people who kidnapped you deserve to be executed! But you and I both know that doesn’t excuse what you did. You hurt people who did nothing to you. You hurt Undyne. Do you know that she grew up to be a defender of her people? She’s here, fighting for everyone! She forgave humanity for what we did to her and her ancestors! So let’s prove to her that she’s done the right thing! Let’s prove that humans aren’t redeemable. Samuel, please-”

**_I hear you._ **

Your magic connects to Tired-Self Hate-Responsibility and your soul shines with indigo light. A brand new pair of ballet shoes cover your feet, a well cared for tutu appearing over top of the apron around your waist. Asriel cries out as Samuel’s soul leaves his control and floats to rest in your chest right next to James’. He’s starting to look desperate, hands coming up to block his chest like he thinks he can hold the souls in. If you focus, you can see the ones that remain. Brandon’s soul is blazing more brightly than ever - you imagine he must be furious. Dahlia’s, on the other hand, is as faded as it was before. The bright spirit within is still trapped and this time you find yourself uncertain of how to reach her.

You notice that Asriel is about to bolt a second before he moves. Luckily, you’re faster. He’s twisting, one leg outstretched as he begins to run when you slam into him from behind. Your now larger form brings him crashing to the ground. You fall with him. His elbow slams into your face, your hand grabbing it a moment later and pinning it to the ground. You hold him down as he tries to throw you off, growling. There’s fear in his eyes.

You find yourself tongue tied as you try to find the words to coax Dahlia out.

 _Dahlia,_ Mae calls. _Dahlia. I know that you can hear me, but I suppose that you don’t know me either. I’m Mae Morton. I died a little bit after you._

You think you catch just a flicker of brighter color from the dull orange soul.

_It wasn’t fair, was it? You and I dying, I mean. We were just kids who climbed a mountain… although I did climb it thinking I was intending to die. Really I wanted my mother to run after me, find me and apologize for all of the things she said about me just being another mouth they couldn’t afford to feed. But instead I feel down  and died like you did. Asgore did it. I think we both know he didn’t want to._

_S…. at?_ Dahlia’s voice is faint, fading out.

_I know it doesn’t change what he did. But what else was he supposed to do? Humans killed his mother, his father, his oldest and strongest mentor, the people that he was tasked with protecting. Our ancestors murdered their children because they were afraid. If he had to save his people by hurting us… Can you really blame him?_

_Yes!_ Dahlia’s voice is stronger now, anger carrying on it.

 _Really?_ Mae asks. _I think I might have done the same in his position._

_He watched while I died!_

“I don’t think he could have saved you, Dahlia,” you say quietly. “Magic has its limits.”

 _Would he have saved me if he could?_ Dahlia demands.

You wince. That’s the only response required.

_See! See? He just got lucky because I was already dying!_

“Dahlia,” you mutter, heavy with sorrow.

_Dahlia. He made a mistake._

Dahlia laughs at that. _What?! A mistake? A mistake is when you drop a plate, not when you kill six kids!_

_You might think that, but were you a king? Did you have to stand strong in front of your people after your son was murdered by humans? When some part of you suspected that maybe your adopted human child had done this on purpose? Did you make a rash decision only to see that it gave your people the hope that they had been lacking?_

_So wh-_

_And,_ Mae says, mental voice rising above Dahlia’s objections, _Are you now risking life and limb to try to protect a human city and the humans who could well be the descendants of the ones that killed your people? Or the ones that killed your son?_

Dahlia doesn’t respond.

_Because he is a king, Asgore’s mistakes are amplified. He took on the title young. He has made mistakes. He is attempting to make up for them now. You do not owe him forgiveness for the attempt. But if you allow your anger to take over you allow yourself to become an instrument of destruction. Our anger, our hate has already allowed Asriel to use our souls to wreck havoc. Our power has been used to kill hundreds, if not thousands of people. Please, do not continue to make that same mistake._

You can feel Dahlia hesitating,

 _No!_ Brandon shrieks. You and Asriel both wince at the shrill sound echoing through your heads. _You can’t just agree with that! The monsters took away your family! Your family probably spent days looking for you! They didn’t even have a body to bury. They took me away from her. Don’t you hate them for that? Don’t you want to destroy them?_

Silence. It feels like everyone on the battlefield is holding their breath, even though you know the effect is only the shield that you’ve raised to keep Asriel contained. You can see vague shapes on the other side of your magic, monsters mulling around uneasily. Longing strikes your soul as you wonder if your loved ones are standing there too.

 _You really do love them, don’t you?_ Dahlia asks quietly.

“Ah! I… yes, I do,” you say, hoping your sincerity is carried on your voice. “I understand that many of them have made mistakes-

 _Especially Sans,_ Chara chimes in, a reflexive response.

You sigh. “Chara.”

_I just think he sucks._

“I’m aware. As I was saying. They were all put into a bad situation. The underground was not intended to be a home, and despite the fact that they made it into one, it was still not the most hospitable of places. I don’t think they could’ve stayed there much longer. But they still did their best, and none of them are bad people. It still doesn’t excuse what they did, but please know it was done in fear and desperation.”

 _I hurt them for the same reason,_ James adds. _I was scared of my father and I thought that somehow killing the monsters who had killed my mother would bring her back. But they didn’t kill her, and she wouldn’t have come back anyways._

 _And I was afraid that I didn’t know how to help him, so I let him do what he thought was best,_ Violet says. _Even though I knew he was wrong. Losing someone like that clouds your judgement._

 _We can’t fix what we’ve done._ Samuel’s voice is heavy, older even than he is now. _All we can do is try to make up for it now. Just like Asgore._

 ** _You’re right._** Dahlia’s soul reignites, brighter even than Brandon’s. It leaves Asriel’s chest and completes its part in the rainbow blazing in yours. A bright orange bandana and warm gloves add themselves to your eclectic ensemble.

Below you, Brandon is enraged. He is shouting insults into your mind, anger radiating and poisoning everything it touches. Asriel’s magic is rallying at his command. Asriel looks panicked, eyes wide as he realizes that his body is no longer under his control.

“Brandon, stop!” Asriel chokes out, eyes wide.

He ignores him, shrieking abuse at everyone and everything. The power he’s collecting is radiating from Asriel’s body. Above, you hear lasers sparking. They strike your shield and evaporate. Asriel shouts in pain as Brandon tries to do it again. He tries to speak again but is overwhelmed.

“No.”

The word crashes from your lips, shaking the air on its way. Your feelings on Asriel are mixed but your emotions at watching someone attempt to take over someone else’s body are not. Your rage mingles with Brandon’s, crashing through the fury-hate-kill and subduing him. Then, mercy. You do not subject him to the whirlwind of negative emotion that you and the others had been put through. Instead you string together happy memories of his childhood - his sister’s first birthday, swimming in the creak with his friends, his mother taking them out to dinner at his favorite pizza place because he’d gotten all As - and let him relive them on loop. His soul is instantly under your control in a way that makes you uncomfortable.  
His weapon and defense item - a plastic knife and a bow, respectively, appear on your person as the souls in your chest hum. The rainbow is complete, the golden soul connecting all the rest. Your mind is clear. You are you, no longer the you that you were but a newer and more powerful version. It is a unique sensation, one you would savor, but you are needed outside of your head and the issues there will not wait.

You sigh and open your eyes. Below you, Asriel is back to his child form, tiny and staring up at you in fear. You push yourself up. You can see the monsters around you, but they aren’t your main concern. The shield will keep them away long enough for you to finish this conversation.

“Asriel.”

The word echoes, rings, carries with it power and depth. Asriel flinches.

“Sorry.” You modulate the sound, making it quieter and less powerful. At the same time you draw your body in, reducing yourself to a size that feels comfortable. Unsurprisingly, it is not the same height that the golden souled one had stood at. “Is this better?”

Asriel is shaking, but he still asks, “A-are you…. ______?”

“No.”

He looks confused. “But then who are you?”

You hum. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess I am _____. But I’m also Mae, Dahlia, James, and the rest.”

“But…. how?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not. Are you going to kill me?”

Something in you reacts very violently to the very idea. “No. Chara would never let that happen.”

“Chara…? They’re really….?”

“Yes. They’re here with the rest of them. They’re very happy to see you again, Asriel.” You feel two more spirits light up at your words and chuckle quietly. “Toriel and Asgore will be too, right after they finish with the lecture.”

Asriel just shakes his head, drawing his knees to his chest and burying his face in them. It doesn’t take much thought to figure out what he’s objecting to. You kneel down beside him.

“Asriel-”

“I’m not Asriel!” he shouts, voice muffled against his knees.

“Okay,” you agree easily. “Who are you then?”

A long pause filled with his uneven breathing. “I don’t know.”

More quiet. You take a moment to appreciate how pretty the sky is past your shield. Its just past midday, according to a few of the kids’ knowledge of the movements of the sun. “So what should I call you then? Because I don’t think you’re Flowey either.”

“New… Asriel?”

“I see where you get your naming skills from.”

Asriel huffs in irritation. “I’d like to see you come up with something better!”

“What’s wrong with just Asriel?”

“I’m not Asriel anymore. Not after what I did.”

“You don’t think the Asriel that you were could have done what you did? Even considering everything that happened? Even considering that that’s exactly what happened?”

“It doesn’t matter. My- Asgore and Toriel wouldn’t want me using that name.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes!”

“Even though your parents care very deeply for you and can forgive what you did while you were soulless?”

“Being soulless doesn’t excuse what I did!”

“No, it doesn’t. Emotions aren’t necessary to be a good person. There are humans who don’t feel emotion. They generally live very fulfilling lives. I think your situation is different though. You died very young, in a very violent manner, right after your sibling convinced you that helping them to kill themself would help monsterkind escape the underground. You then suddenly had none of the emotions you were accustomed to and the ability to do whatever you wanted to before undoing everything and starting again. I don’t think that anyone else would have done much better, really. None of the people who are me think so at least.”

Asriel doesn’t appear to have a response. He does, however, look like he’s started crying. You’re not exactly thrilled about that.

“Hey, Asriel, do you know what you get when you cross a dog and a lamp post?” you ask.

He thinks hard for a minute, obvious confusion on his face. “No, what do you get when you cross a dog and a lamp post?”

“I don’t know!” you announce cheerily. “That’s why I asked you!”

Asriel groans. Loudly. “That’s not even a joke!”

“You’re right, sorry. Want to hear a better one?” He doesn’t manage to say no in time. “Knock knock!”

“Who’s there?”

He’s a pretty polite kid, considering that you’re positive he doesn’t want to hear the end of the joke. “Orange.”

“Orange who?”

“Orange.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say the punchline there?”

“Nope. Orange.”

“Orange… who?”

“Orange.”

“Orange who!”

“Orange… you glad I didn’t say orange again?” You wiggle your eyebrows to complete the cheesiness of the joke.

Another loud groan, but this time you think you catch a hint of a smile. “That one was even worse!”

“It absolutely was. Half of me thinks it was hilarious. The other half would gladly strangle me if they could.”

Asriel sniffles, wiping at his eyes before giving you a flat look. “You’re weird, you know that?”

“Yes.”

Asriel looks at you suspiciously. “That was weird too. You did that on purpose!”

You laugh. “I absolutely did. You can’t mix together eight different people and expect to get anything but weird. I was also born like, five minutes ago. Cut me some slack.”

Asriel gives you a wavering smile. It fades as he looks past you, out at the shield and the monsters behind it. “I have to go out there, don’t I?”

“At some point we both have to,” you say, giving the outside world a wary look.

“I know why I don’t want to go out there, but what’s so bad about it for you?” he asks.

“I’m not quite sure that I or the ones that I am comprised of are ready to face the light of day just yet. They would need to split from each other, but I don’t know that they are ready to stop being me just yet.”

“Wait, you mean that you don’t exist otherwise?”

You chuckle. “Of course not. I’m an amalgamation of their personalities and thoughts held loosely together by ______’s shield magic.”

Asriel doesn’t seem to find the question as funny as you do. He frowns, concerned. “So to get them all back… You have to die?”

“Only in the loosest sense of the term. ‘I’ say what they all agree to say. My actions are the median between everyone’s reactions and common sense.”

“Why doesn’t it take hours for you to do anything then?”

“You know, I’m not sure!” you say cheerily. “It’s pretty much instantaneous though.’

You sit up, crossing your legs. You look Asriel in the eyes, expression understanding. “But I don’t think you’re really all that curious about me, are you?”

Asriel looks ashamed. “N-no, I really am interested. I just… also don’t want to go outside.”

You hum thoughtfully, look up at the sky. There’s a nice cloud up there. Looks a little bit like a cat all curled up. “We could just stay here you know. With everyone’s souls working together my shield could probably last through whatever the government sends to get rid of us. Or Mae can figure out how to teleport us out of here - if Sans could figure it out then so can she.”

“That last line sounds like them.”

“Well, they are here you know. Chara might have meant it as an insult, but ______, Dahlia, and Samuel just think Mae is very smart. So it was only a quarter insult and three quarters compliment.” Asriel looks confused. You shrug. “Like I said, its an interesting balancing act in here.”

The conversation reaches another lull as Asriel plays with the grass at his side. “Chara wouldn’t want me to stay here. Doesn’t, I mean.”

“No, they don’t. But they also don’t want to go outside knowing that your parents are out there. So its easier to hide here since monsters can’t get in.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Asriel agrees uneasily, then pauses. “Wait, why do you only say that monsters can’t get in?”

“Well…” You stretch the word out like taffy, half of you very abruptly panicking while the other half rolls their collective eyes. “I only really made this barrier to keep your powers in and outside magical attacks from hitting either of us. It’s a lot harder to keep physical matter out.”

From outside of the shield you hear a shout of surprise, followed closely by Ferrin and Frisk running through it. Asriel yips as they approach. He looks scared out of his wits.

“Hello Ferrin, Frisk,” you say cordially, not moving to stand.

“You’re not _______,” Ferrin says, looking at you cautiously.

“Nope.”

“Can I talk to _______?”

Frisk raises their hands, catching your attention. Is Chara in there too? I haven’t heard anything from them in a while….

“Chara is here, yes. Unfortunately, while we’re like this, you can only speak to me.”

“Then can you give them something for me?” Ferrin asks.

“Uh… I can try? But a physical item wouldn’t really- Oh.”

Ferrin wraps her arms tight around your midsection, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s shaking, just slightly. She pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, her own watery. “You idiot. On what planet could I ever hate you?”

A small hand finds your right, a larger furred one grabbing your left a moment later. Frisk is just smiling through their own tears, but Asriel speaks for the both of them. “Chara, we love you. Come back?”

It’s a compelling argument. Their souls respond, your chest lighting up with gold tinged in deep red. Ferrin is the only one who catches the purple of your eyes as your body flares with light and separates.

Seven points of light hit the ground as the shield shatters, falling into shimmering glitter that disappears before it touches the ground. The monsters outside shout, suddenly released both from the magic connecting them and the barrier that kept them back. You barely take notice. You’re working too hard to give your baby sister a hug that can somehow convey all of the apologies you don’t know how to voice. You think maybe the hug she’s giving back is her way of saying she’s already forgiven you.

Behind you you can hear the kids crying as they hold onto each other. Asriel and Chara are both trying to speak over each other to deliver their apologies.

Farther away but closer with every syllable you hear Toriel cry out, “Chara! Asriel!”

You pull back from Ferrin and see her flying towards the group just behind you. You can feel the tinge of Chara’s fear through your connected spirits, but when Toriel finally arrives she sweeps all three of the kids into her arms. She’s crying too hard for you to be able to understand what she’s trying to say but you’re positive it isn’t angry.

Papyrus arrives a second later, scooping the both of you up and swinging you around. He too is too emotional for words. The blinding smile on his face speaks volumes instead. When your feet touch the ground again you see Sans standing back, poker face firmly in place. You can see that he looks tense, focused mostly on Chara’s form. You glance that way and see Asgore slowly approaching the group. Undyne and Alphys aren’t far behind. You catch Averia moving closer out of the corner of your eye, something slung over her shoulder.

You release the hug and grab Ferrin’s hand instead as you look around the field. James and Violet are only a few yards away. Violet has her arms so tight around James that you’re not sure she’s ever planning to let him go, while James is clutching to her like if he lets go the earth will fall out from under his feet. Dahlia and Mae are seated on the grass to your other side. They look to be talking quietly. Whatever Dahlia says has Mae ducking her head in embarrassment. Samuel is standing nearby without engaging them. Instead he’s quietly studying the monsters ringing the rest of you. Aside from the ones you’ve noticed none of them have moved.

“Hey, _______?” Ferrin asks hesitantly.

“Yeah Fer?”

“You’re back for good, right? You’re not going to have to leave again?”

“I’m not leaving you again,” you swear. “I missed you Fer.”

“Missed you too sib.”

A jolt of guilt and shame brings your attention back to Chara. They’re hanging their head, fists balled and shaking. Toriel is on her knees in front of them, her big paws settled on their shoulders.

“I- Please, Mom, don’t ever think I wanted to leave. I-I had to....” Char mumbles, voice cracking.

“But why?” Toriel asks, desperate. “My child, we loved you dearly. We called you the hope of monsterkind because you reminded us that humans were capable of caring for monsters even when taught to fear us. We never wanted you to shoulder our burden.”

“I…. I…..”

“It was more than that, Toriel,” you say, “Sorry for breaking into this conversation, but do you know why Chara fell?”

“Of course I do. They were sacrificed to the mountain in a cruel human ritual,” Toriel says.

Chara flinches, drawing into themself. You reach out, letting them know that you do not blame them for lying. At the same time you lend them courage. The other kids follow your lead.

“Okay, I get it!” Chara says, bracing themself as they meet Toriel’s eyes. “My first mom used magic to heal people. Everyone else got scared that she would hurt them so they hunted us down and killed my family. I wasn’t supposed to survive but the people who threw me into the mountain didn’t know you guys were friendly. There, I did it. Are you guys happy?”

Stubborn as ever. “I don’t know. Do you feel better after telling the truth?”

They just scuff their foot against the ground, crossing their arms huffily. Toriel gently tilts their head up to meet her eyes. “I think I now understand why you were so reluctant to become a part of our family. You felt you were betraying your human parents, did you not?”

Chara nods quietly.

“Chara,” Asgore’s deep voice says, “Any parents worth their salt would be happiest knowing that their child was being taken care of by people who loved them.”

“But you didn’t love me! You thought I killed Azzy on purpose!” Chara cries. “You should’ve known I wouldn’t ever do that!”

“Chara. Dear one. I never truly believed that. I was searching for ways of blaming myself and in doing so blamed you as well. I cannot apologize enough.”

Asgore’s eyes are filled with tears as he kneels on the disturbed earth. His hands twitch at his sides as though he wants to reach out to his children but isn’t sure how. Chara is the first to break the stalemate. They gently push their way out of Toriel’s arms and walk up to Asgore. It almost looks like they’re going to say something, but instead they just fall into him, their arms wrapping around his neck as best they can. He still looks stunned as he returns their hug.

Asriel grabs hold of Frisk’s and his mother’s hand a few moment later, leading her over to the other two. There he pulls her down so that the both of them can join in on the hug. Toriel is hesitant now that the embrace includes her ex-husband, but she concedes to Asriel’s wishes.

Its a touching scene, but it makes you feel like you’re intruding on something you weren’t meant to witness. When you look away you spot Alphys and Undyne grinning like mad. They’re whispering to each other and darting glances at the family reunion.

“The ship never stops sailing,” Ferrin whispers.

“These are real people,” you object.

“Eh, its harmless. Besides, they could get back together for their kids or something.”

“I can not see that ending well,” Papyrus says, his whisper substantially louder than either of yours.

“I agree. But they are adults,” you say.

Closer to you than to the family, Averia has come to a stop. The black thing she was carrying is now at her feet and you can finally make out what it is. He looks exactly like he had in your meetings in the void even if his presence is a little less pronounced here. You walk over, Ferrin and Papyrus following. Averia looks up at your approach.

“______.”

“Me,” you agree.

“Averia’s been helping us,” Ferrin says. “She helped us find the pieces of Gaster’s soul, and I’m sort of kind of Papyrus’ sister now, which makes her my aunt, and she also protected Frisk when they were attacked.”

“Back up to that second part?”

“I’ll explain later.”

“I would really like an explanation now.”

“Hi Averia! How’s the grumpy one doing?” Ferrin asks cheerily, completely ignoring you.

She looks amused at your exchange. “Grumpy. He’s quieted down though. The magic restricting handcuffs Undyne gave me are working pretty well.”

You look down at Gaster, trying to figure out what to say. As you do so something that Frisk had heard earlier prods at your mind. “Gaster. You can hear me, right?”

“Hard not to.” He doesn’t sound angry despite the shortness of his words. The usual sarcasm is missing too.

“Why did you care so much about this world? Surely there are others that need your help just as much as, if not more than this one. I mean, if all of those alternate universes people came up with were real…” you trail off, shuddering. Dusttale, Horrortale, most versions of Underfell and Fellswap…. You don’t even want to know what those worlds are like.

“What does it matter? Your plan worked better than mine. Congratulations.” Ah, there’s that bitterness.

His reluctance to answer only makes you more curious. “You’re dodging the question. Why this world? Actually, why not try to save your native world instead? Wouldn’t you care more about that one?

Gaster stiffens, then tries to play it off. “Maybe I didn’t much care for my world. It does not matter.”

“Really? ‘Cause the way you’re dodgin’ those questions makes me think you’ve got somethin’ to hide,” Sans says. You jump, not having noticed him approach.

Gaster just scoffs. You frown, looking from Sans, to Averia, to Papyrus, and back to Gaster. A reason that he would care about this universe specifically, one he would feel motivated to hide from everyone else. Something he would risk his life for.

The realization is ice through your soul. “You’re this timeline’s Gaster.”

He doesn’t try to deny it.

“Am I right?” you press.

Still nothing.

Averia stoops and heaves Gaster up by the neck of his shirt. Her eye lights drill into his as she says, “Tell us. You owe it to those kids and you owe it to me, Dings.”

“Fine,” he spits. “I’m this timeline’s Gaster. There. Did that fix anything? Am I suddenly forgiven? Are my sins cleansed?”

“No,” Averia says, dropping him back on his feet, where he staggers for a moment before finding his balance. “But it’s a step.”

Gaster scowls. “You are no fool, Averia. You know my crimes are unforgivable. And for the record, the only person allowed to call me ‘Dings’ is my sister. Someone you have made it very clear you are not.”

Tension crackles between the two of them. You’re beginning to wonder if you know anyone without family issues.

“Hey, Gaster, I have a question,” Ferrin says suddenly. “What was the point of killing Asriel and everyone’s souls anyways?”

“I would like to know as well,” Mae says. She and Dahlia had approached your group without you noticing. They both look at Gaster with expectant expressions, although Dahlia also looks like she’s considering punching him. You can understand the urge - that machine had hurt.

“I failed. I do not see why-”

Averia cuts him off again. “Just explain yourself, you’re fighting a losing battle.”

Gaster rolls his eye lights. “It was the plan with the highest degree of success. What _____ and the rest did was statistically near impossible. No version of myself would settle for a plan that was not guaranteed to succeed. The machine would absorb the power of your souls and I would direct that power. One final reset wherein Flowey, Chara, and Frisk were no longer factors.”

“‘No longer factors’. You were going to kill those kids,” you say.

Gaster sneers. “What of it?”

Your magic snaps out and covers Gaster’s soul. You stare him down as the anger of all of the children’s souls connected to yours floods through him. Chara’s is especially vicious - they say a few choice words you think their mother would scold them for if she had heard. Gaster staggers back as you release him.

“Nothing, really,” you say calmly, ignoring the looks you’re getting from everyone around you. “So what were Ferrin and I then? Why were we important to your little plot?”

“You weren’t,” Gaster spits. “You were expendable pawns.”

“Expendable huh… That reminds me of something that’s always bothered me. Sans never met Ferrin or I in any previous timeline. Makes me wonder how expendable and unnecessary we really were. Did you bring us here, Gaster?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“What does that mean?” Ferrin demands.

“Neither of you existed in this world before this.” Gaster ignores your startled exclamations and continues. “In a very, very different timeline, in a parallel universe, you two were among the few humans who were in full support of monsters from the beginning. That universe’s Ferrin was a police officer who helped bring the rest of the force around to our side. ______ was a journalist who brought monster voices to the forefront instead of allowing humans to speak for us. They were both lynched a few years into the timeline. When that Frisk reset, they no longer existed. They have not, to this date, come back in a reset.

“From that we knew that you would be sympathetic if we could recreate your existence, and that your existence was a rare phenomenon. Manipulating this timeline was not difficult. Obviously, we changed a few things. We messed up with Ferrin. She wasn’t supposed to leave school, but that friend of hers wasn’t meant to die in a car accident either. We made it work. ______ had the cash we needed and Abraham was a good enough ally.”

Gaster falls silent, and you're left struggling to find anything to say. You might have continued questioning him, but at that moment the outside world decides that it needs to intrude. The sound of helicopter blades tearing through the air breaks through the mostly quiet park. You curse, looking to the sky. There’s nothing there yet but it can’t be long if you can hear them.

“Asgore, I don’t know if that’s the government, but they can’t be far behind,” you call.

Asgore lets go of his children to stand up, looking towards the sound of the helicopters. He looks weary. “We should retreat. The cars should not have been harmed during our fight. With more time, we may be able to form a plan that will end well for all sides.”

You really don’t know how that’s possible. Somewhere there’s guaranteed to be video of Asriel’s rampage uploaded on the internet. How would you be able to convince anyone that the monsters came in peace if that was everyone’s first impression of them?

“There will be no need to retreat,” Mae says.

Asgore frowns. “I do not see how we will be able to manage a situation such as this without planning our strategy in advance.”

“Mae means that you guys won’t have to ‘manage’ anything,” Dahlia declares. “We can reset the timeline.”

You turn to the two of them. “Wait, we can do that?”

Mae laughs. “Of course we can. With your power linking our souls it will not be difficult.”

“Does anyone know how to do that?” you ask.

“We’ve done it a few thousand times, ______. What kind of question is that?” Chara asks.

“Oh. Right.” You hesitate. Saying goodbye to Ferrin just feels wrong when you’ve only just reunited.

The helicopters have appeared at the edge of your vision. Ferrin bites her lip, looking worried. “We need to hurry, don’t we?”

“I think so,” you say apologetically. “But we’ll have plenty of time to catch up later, Fer. Or, uh, it's not really later is it?”

“_______. We need to hurry,” Mae says, eyeing the sky. She’s a bit skeptical of your memories of flying metal machines, but she’s also not willing to risk it.

The other kids are ready, filled with hope, determination, and duty. It reminds you that none of them can really be called children, not any more. Cheated out of their childhoods, their family ties, the rest of their lives… There has been so much bad here already.

 _We can’t fix that. Let’s do our best with what we’ve got,_ Chara says.

In the same instant, Frisk says, _We can’t save everyone. Do what you can._

Amusement fills your shared headspace. You nod, squaring your shoulders.

“I’ll see you soon, Ferrin, Papyrus… Sans,” you add, the last name very nearly a question.

“You’d better be ready for the lecture of a lifetime!” Ferrin says, pointing a stern finger at you.

Papyrus mimicks Ferrin. “I, too, will lecture you on valuing yourself more!”

Sans just quietly studies your face. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, or even if he finds it. He does finally give you a ghost of a genuine smile. “See ya, ______.”

You’d forgotten how much you love hearing him say your name.

With one final wave, the seven of you merge together once again. It takes only a moment for your souls to bind to each other, pulsing as one with the power flowing through your form. You allow yourself to really feel that potential magic, delving into it as deeply as you can. Chara’s memories guide you to it. Some part, the part that comes from _______, expects the spell to appear as a orange and grey rectangle labeled ‘RESET’. Instead, you open your eyes, the magic dancing across your body as it waits to be cast.

Hope filled faces are cast upwards, looking at you as though you have answers. You suppose that in a way you do.

“Ferrin,” you call. “Come meet us as soon as you can, alright?”

As her brows wrinkle, lips parting to ask what on Earth you’re talking about, you release the magic built up inside of you. It bursts up and out, flooding the world. Fixing the small portion of wrong that you can.

To everyone else, it will be as though they’re waking up after falling unconscious. For you, the world blacks out, the void all that is left. Something asks whether or not you are certain. You do not hesitate.

 

  
You wake up with your hands tangled in a dangling rope. Your muddy shoes rest on a bed of bright yellow flowers. Above, the sun shines down on your face, birds singing their songs into brisk autumn air. Your heart beats in your chest, your fingers ache from the friction of the rope, your calves are weak from the strain of your hurried climb.

You gasp, sight going black as you fall unconscious. You’re just aware enough to feel yourself being caught by someone with very slender arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes here. One, I hope you enjoyed! This chapter has been half planned out in my mind for eons and I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it.
> 
> Two, for any transgender person who’s willing to lend me a hand - I honestly cannot decide if Dahlia should be referred to as she, he, or they. I’ll default to they here so I can explain this. If you asked Dahlia at this moment, they’d say that their pronouns are she/her/herself, because despite now knowing about transgender people from Reader’s memories, they still feel it doesn’t apply to them. If they had time to think it over, they would realize that they’re a transgender man and choose he/him/himself. So on the one hand, they would currently choose she/her/herself, which makes me feel like even using they/them/themself is misgendering, and on the other I did write them fully intending for them to be a transgender man. As a cisgender person I can’t help but feel my input on this is not fully informed. Opinions would be much appreciated! 
> 
> Three, I recently found Heathers the musical and have been listening to the soundtrack since then. I'm fond of Dead Girl Walking (how could I not be, honestly), Candy Store, and Our Love Is God. Such good songs.
> 
> And four, yes, we're reaching the end! I've officially set our chapter number for 65, the last of which will be an epilogue. We're reaching the finish line here folks.


	62. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody! Sorry for the long break (I know I say that every chapter but I do mean it I swear...) our winter break was two weeks long and school started back up just a few days after the last chapter. I'm not in love with how this chapter turned out but I can't seem to get it just right either, hopefully you all still enjoy it.
> 
> Trigger warning, lots of discussion of suicide in this chapter!

You wake up as suddenly as you’d fainted. Your eyes snap open, sunlight filtered through the trees replaced by the dimly lit ceiling of a home. The room is dark. The light comes from the sliver of hallway you can see through the open door. You’re in Toriel’s house, resting in the room that was once Asriel and Chara’s. You’re safe.

  
Your groan softly and settle back on the pillow. Your head feels like it was split open and poorly sewn back together. Close by you hear voices speaking. Familiar ones that send a warm tingle of anticipation down your spine. You want to see the people that they’re attached to, to really let the fact that you’re all alive and safe sink in.

  
But for now, you close your eyes and focus on the memories bouncing around your skull. Flowey, Brandon, Asriel, the rest of the kids… Gaster, Sans, Asgore. You have more memories and thoughts than you really know how to sort through, and your head feels like it’s stuffed to the brim. There’s too much there to put this off. For what feels like hours but might only be a few minutes you pull your own memories apart from everyone else’s.

  
“You know, they’d probably appreciate it if you let them know you’re still alive. You really worried your sister there.”

  
You’re so lost in your thoughts that for a moment, you think the voice you hear is your own. When you realize it wasn’t you startle, heart pounding. You know the voice and when you look over you can see her purple eye lights staring at you from her spot on the bed opposite yours.

  
“Holy fucking hell Averia! How long have you been there?” you demand.

  
“The entire time. Don’t play with venomous snakes kid.” She sounds amused.

  
You groan. “Nearly gave me a heart attack. Why’re you in here, anyways?”

  
Whatever Averia’s reply is, it’s cut off by the sound of footsteps running through the hallway. The door opens with a smack before it collides with the wall behind it. A figure rushes through and throws itself onto you. Her arms wrap around your back as yours hold onto her waist. You can feel her tears on your shoulder.

  
“Hey Fer,” you whisper into her hair.

  
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says, voice breaking. “I thought…. I thought you weren’t coming back.”

  
“I know. I’m sorry.”

  
“I know.”

  
“I don’t know, I think you owe a lot of people a lot of apologies, ______.”

  
Your jaw very nearly hits the floor as Abe enters the room just behind your sister, turning on the light as he does so. You feel like you’ve just been caught by your kindergarten teacher doing something you weren’t supposed to.

  
“Why are you…? What is he…?”

  
Ferrin seems to understand you unfinished questions. “He pulled me over on my drive here.”

  
“Broke at least three laws doing it too,” Abe confirms. “But considering I did die I think I’ll let myself off the hook this time.”

 

“You WHAT?!”

  
“Ow! Christ, sib, that’s my ear,” Ferrin says, wincing as she pulls back.

  
“I died. Asriel destroyed the entire town. Killed most of us while he was at it.”

  
“Wait, you know who Asriel is?” you ask.

  
“We were trying to explain everything while you were passed out. We had to go from the beginning, so we only just got to the part where you died to get us out of that hallway.”

  
“Right,” you say, looking away. “That.”

  
Small fingers pull on your sleeve. You look down to see Frisk. Chara says not to beat yourself up about it. Everyone important has already forgiven you.

  
“Everybody import- ? Ah,” you say. The voices of your monster friends outside are silent, but none of them have walked into the room to greet you just yet. “They’re mad, aren’t they?”

  
“No! Just…” Ferrin sighs. “Sans. Papyrus said he wants to talk to you but he’s not angry.”

  
“Sans… Well. I got the impression he wasn’t thrilled with me.”

  
Chara says you shouldn’t care about his opinion. I think you guys should kiss and make up. Frisk pauses. Chara says that's gross.

  
You frown. “Kiddo, why are you speaking for Chara? Are they okay?”

  
Frisk nods. They’re fine. They just feel bad about using so much of my determination before.

  
“Does the determination use carry over resets?”

  
No. They’re just being silly.

  
_I am not!_

  
Frisk grins. Hi, Chara.

  
_What are you- You did that on purpose!_

  
Yes.

  
Frisk’s hands stop spelling out the words but you can tell they’re still talking to Chara by the distant look in their eyes.

  
“You know he doesn’t have any right to be angry, right?” Ferrin asks suddenly.

  
“I mean-”

  
“Nope,” she interrupts. “You saved all of us and if he says anything I’ll deck him. Wait. I can’t deck him, can I?”

  
“Not really. It’d be more like murder.”

  
Ferrin frowns. “Well that sucks. What if he does something to deserve being punched?”

  
“You already forget the last time you hit someone?”

  
“You mean when I hit you?”

  
“You hit- ? Oh. Right. I actually forgot you did that.”

  
“You deserved it.”

  
“Probably.”

  
“Which, by the way, is why I haven’t hit you this time. Last time felt like you were an idiot and forgot about me. This time you were still an idiot but you were trying to do the right thing.”

  
“I don’t know that it’s enough to ‘try’.”

  
Ferrin shrugs as best she can with her arms around you. “I think it is.”

  
“I’m still sorry.”

  
“I still accept your apology.”

  
You feel Frisk’s gaze on you as they return from their conversation with Chara. “Hey, Chara? I didn’t get a chance to say this before, but thank you for bringing me back. I don’t think I could’ve done that on my own.”

 

_It wasn’t that big a deal._ They sound embarrassed.

  
“It was. Thank you.” You try to inject every ounce of the sincerity you feel into your words.

  
Chara just mutters in response. You catch something that might be a _‘You’re welcome’_.

  
You’re trying to convince yourself that embarrassing the kid further wouldn’t be very kind when a quiet knock sounds from the direction of the door. Toriel is standing there, smiling at the scene before her.

  
“It looks as though you are feeling better,” she says.

  
“I don’t remember much before I passed out, but I’m sure I am. Thank you for healing me and bringing me here Toriel,” you say.

  
“Yes, well, I can take credit for the healing but I am afraid I did not bring you here. I thought it unlikely you had walked here…”

  
“What?”

  
“I was on my way to the entrance to the surface when I found you and Averia just outside of the cave my home is in. She has already informed me that she has no memory of arriving here. I suppose one of the other monsters in the Ruins must have brought you here.”

  
That doesn’t sound likely, but you can’t come up with a better explanation. “Right. Anyways, thanks for the help.”

  
She looks as though she’s going to say something before she changes her mind and looks at Averia. “Are you feeling better as well?”

  
“Yeah. Thanks again for the emergency healing.”

  
“It was no trouble. Would more visitors be a burden for either of you? We thought you might like a few minutes to speak with Ferrin alone, ______.”

  
“Nah, more visitors is fine,” you say.

  
“I don’t mind either,” Averia says.

  
Toriel heads back to the living room and you try to brace your tired self for whatever is coming next. Toriel enters first, followed by Papyrus, who closes the door behind him.

  
Papyrus responds to the room’s confused looks by saying, “Sans has… stepped outside for a bit. He should return soon! Or perhaps later. He was not particularly clear.”

  
That sort of hurts, but it’s probably better than him yelling at you. Even though you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t do that.

  
Toriel announces that she needs to check on your progress towards recovery. As she looks to see how you’re responding to her healing from earlier everyone tries to ignore that Sans is absent. It’s awkward though appreciated.

  
“I wonder if anyone’s noticed we’re gone yet?” Ferrin asks.

  
“I really hope not,” you say with a frown. You need at least one more day to do what needs to be done.

  
“The other officers are going to kill me when I get back. I didn’t even leave them a voicemail or anything. I hope they haven’t sent out search parties,” Abe says. He looks genuinely worried at the possibility.

  
“We’ll be back up on the surface soon. We could go do it now, actually,” Ferrin says, surprised at the realization.

  
“Well….” you trail off as they look at you. Ferrin looks suspicious.

  
“Well what?” she asks.

  
“We’re not done down here yet. There are three- no, four more things we have to get done.”

  
“What the hell could be left?”

  
“For one, we need to find Gaster.”

  
_How are we supposed to do that? The glitch things are gone. I checked._

  
“Chara, Frisk, question for you.” You swing your legs out of bed, dizzy for a moment before your vision clears. “Have you ever met a sort of melted looking version of him by going through a doorway in Waterfall?”

  
Yes, but only once or twice, Frisk signs. How do you plan to get him to come out?

  
“For that, we’ll need the other souls. Everyone but Brandon. We can force the door to appear.”

  
“What about Flowey?” Ferrin asks.

  
“If he was going to cause trouble he’d be doing it already. I think he’s still being affected by the merge with the souls. That should last long enough for me to do this.” You hope.

  
“And what happens when you do find Gaster?” Averia asks. “Are you looking to fight a dead man? Why bother?”

  
“I’m not looking for a fight, though it might come to that. I want a few more answers out of him. And after that… I’m not one hundred percent sure,” you confess. It’s not exactly a lie. You want to try your plan out before you tell anyone about it. The disappointment would crush Frisk and Toriel.

  
“So you want to put yourself in harms way. Again,” Ferrin says flatly.

  
“No! With the others, we’re more powerful than he is. Even if he wants to fight us he doesn’t stand a chance.”

  
“How can you possibly know that?” she asks.

  
“He wasn’t powerful enough to manipulate our world precisely and he needed our souls to be able to reset. With all of our souls together we could eventually have done everything he did.”

  
“Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”

  
“Yes. Fer, I promise you I am not risking my life.”

  
“Why do it at all? He’s a liar. Whatever answers he gives you are suspect,” Averia points out.

  
“I know, but I think it’s the only way to end this. The River Person told Mae what their prophecy meant. This - the resets, the deaths, the past that haunts us - none of it ends until the underground is empty once and for all. That means Gaster. Chara. Flowey. They’re the only ones who haven’t ever really left the underground. We have to fix that.”

  
“The River Person isn’t a prophet,” Averia says. “What do you mean their prophecy?”

  
“The one that lead to the creation of the Delta Rune. I don’t remember it word for word,” you say.

  
“‘The Angel, one who has seen the surface, will return. And the underground will go empty.’ It was first heard only a few months after we were locked down here, but I never heard anyone tell who made it,” Toriel says.

  
Averia frowns. “That doesn’t sound half as nice as what _____ is saying. ‘Empty’ could mean a lot of things.”

  
“It could. In this case, it’s going to mean that everyone is out there enjoying the sunlight,” you insist.

  
“Okay. Fine, sounds great. How exactly do we accomplish that?” Averia asks, skeptical.

  
“Like I said, step one is getting those souls.”

  
“Asgore’s gonna love that.”

  
“He’ll get over it.”

  
“He will,” she agrees, moving to stand up. She staggers before regaining her feet. “I’m coming along to see it. And watch you beat sense into my brother. And make sure you don’t die on us.”

  
The offer seems… genuine? You’re not sure how to reply. “What the hell happened while I was gone?”

  
“I told you, she’s my aunt now. Yours too I guess,” Ferrin says.

  
“I don’t think that’s how this works. In fact, I’m positive.”

  
“Monster law is different, duh. Right Aunt Averia?”

  
Ferrin looks downright mischievous, and Averia’s face is flushed as she rubs the back of her neck. You’re so confused.

  
“I’m so confused. But it isn’t like our family can get any more dysfunctional. Welcome aboard, Aunt Averia.”

  
Averia looks at you in shock while Ferrin snickers. She then rolls her eye lights and mutters something about ‘weird ass kids’ before speaking to the room at large. “So. We need souls, right? Let’s go get them.”

  
“Oh no you do not,” Toriel says sternly. She gently but firmly presses Averia back into bed. “The both of you are going to rest. Averia, you were mere hours from falling down. And you, _______! Your soul and mind have yet to reconcile the events of your last - reset, was it? You need to allow yourself to heal.”

  
“Toriel, I need to do this soon. Those kids deserve to go free, don’t you think? We can’t just leave them in those glass containers.”

  
Toriel bites her lip as she thinks. “Very well. I understand your urgency. I will still request that you wait one night before you begin your journey to ‘empty the underground’ however.”

  
You want to object, but you’re not actually sure that you could make it to the door by yourself much less walk to Waterfall and then to Hotland as you are. “Alright. I’ll rest for today but after that you’ve got to let me go do this.”

  
“I will allow you to leave tomorrow morning. For now, let me get the both of you something to eat.” Toriel leaves, shutting the door behind her gently.

  
“So… you want to do something with Gaster, Chara and Flowey. What’s the fourth thing?” Ferrin asks.

  
You sigh. “In Alphys’ labs, there are these things called Amalgamates. They’re what happens when you give a monster injections of determination - they melted, and accidentally melted into each other. I want to see if we can’t separate them. Maybe Alphys can give us some pointers.”

  
“Alphys injected monster souls with determination?” Averia asks, aghast.

  
“She didn’t know what was going to happen,” you add quickly. “The monsters had already fallen down. She thought it might save their lives since it’s done the same for humans.”

  
“Fucking hell… I guess that’s what happens when your next generation can’t learn from the ones before it. They end up making our same stupid mistakes.”

  
“Somebody tried it before?” Ferrin asks.

  
“Yeah. Plenty of human sorcerers and monster soul scientists that had more resources and ambition than basic decency. And no kid. We never managed to get the souls separated. Most of the time the families were just happy to have their relatives back. Near as we could tell the merged souls lived happy lives.”

  
“Well that’s good news for if this fails,” you say. “I’ve just got to try at least.”

  
“Be careful. We managed to dust a few trying the same thing,” she warns.

  
“I will be.”

  
Toriel returns a moment later with two steaming bowls. She cheerily declares that the soup should help the two of you recover your energy before giving a stern warning that if you begin to feel like you’re getting feverishly warm - apparently a symptom of magic ‘poisoning’ caused by ingesting too much of another’s magic - you will tell her. The meat is… very chewy. You do not think about the fact that you’re almost certainly eating snails.

  
“Thanks, Toriel. It was great,” you say. It was, as long as you didn’t think too hard about the snail meat. You hand the bowl back to her and yawn, eyelids heavy.

  
“You look tired,” Ferrin notes.

  
“I am,” you say through another yawn.

  
“If we leave you by yourself are you going to try leaving again?” She’s only half joking.

  
“I won’t. Don’t worry. It was a bad idea, I just- I’m not really thinking straight. Sort of scrambled up here,” you say, gesturing tiredly towards your head.

  
“Then you should rest!” Papyrus declares. “And we should allow you to do so!”

  
“Wait, I wanted to spend some more time- Oof. Alrighty then. See you, ______,” Ferrin says, waving over Papyrus’ back as he carries her, slung over his shoulder, out the door.

  
Abe looks after them, amused. “You all made some interesting friends here. Nice people, even if they spend half their time talking about things I don’t understand.”

  
“Sorry about the remembering thing. The person that we were when we reset wanted to make it so only the people who had to would know what had happened, but we couldn’t actually figure out how to do it. They figured it would be fine either way.”

  
“See, that’s what I mean about talking about things I don’t understand,” Abe says, shaking his head. “But apology accepted. I’m just glad I’m not sitting at home with my head in my hands thinking that Ferrin had gone off to recover your corpse and died herself.”

  
You wince. “I get it if you don’t believe me but I’m sorry for that too. I wasn’t thinking when I climbed that mountain.”

  
“I know you weren’t or you’d have realized your sister would drive herself insane trying to find you. Or that I would be hiking around the base of the mountain afraid I might find you.” Abe looks down at your remorseful expression and smiles reassuringly. “You’re not a bad person. You’ve done a lot of good here and I’m glad to consider you my friend. But you don’t think about yourself near often enough and it hurts you and the people who care about you. Take us into consideration next time you pull a stunt like this.”

  
You hesitate, trying to put your thoughts into the words that you need. “I understand how much I hurt everyone. I had this idea in my head of some dumb noble sacrifice shit… I fucked up. Bad.”

  
“You know, I don’t know a single person who wouldn’t prefer a living hero over a dead one. You messed up and you’ve owned up to it. Forgive yourself and move forward instead of beating yourself up over it. And next time, choose to live for the people you care about instead of dying for them.”

  
You snort. “Me, a hero?”

  
“You saved all of us, didn’t you?”

 

“Well, sure, but-”

  
“No buts. We all owe you for what you did. So long as you know it wasn’t the way we would’ve prefered, let’s forgive everybody and look forward to tomorrow.”

  
“Right. Thanks, Abe.”

  
“Thank you. Now, get some rest,” he says, walking out and closing the door softly behind him.

  
“He’s right you know,” Averia says.

  
“I know. He’s a good man and a better friend.”

  
“Good. Then let me throw in my two cents. Sometimes it’s harder living for someone than it is dying for them. In the end, it’s worth it.”

  
“You know that from personal experience?”

  
“Yup.”

  
Way to overstep boundaries, _______. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  
“It’s fine. I knew a lot of people who died in that war. Or they’ve died since then. Some of them didn’t die to enemies. Or allies, for that matter. So I get it.”  
“Did you ever- Sorry, that was out of line. Forget I asked.”

  
A beat of silence, then, “Yeah. A few times. But if I gave up there was nobody to replace me.”

  
“Nobody is replaceable.”

  
“Nope. They aren’t,” she agrees easily.

  
It feels like there might be more to say, but the words are playing leapfrog in your head instead of ordering themselves into neat rows and you’d hate to interrupt them.

  
“Well,” you say, yawning, “I appreciate everyone giving me the ‘please don’t ever do that again’ talks but they’re draining as hell. I’m going back to sleep.”

  
“Sounds like a plan.”

 

 

  
Ferrin wakes you up later for dinner, which turns out to be snail pie. It’s chewier than you’d like but not as bad as you’d feared. You’d probably get used to it pretty quickly if you had to keep eating it but you’re still glad that you only have one, maybe two more days in the underground. Nobody mentions that Sans has yet to return but his absence leaves an uneasy air over dinner that not even Papyrus’ unwavering attempts to cheer everyone up can ease. He also informs you that he’s spoken with Undyne over the phone and there’s been no sign of Flowey anywhere. They’ve still got everyone on alert around the souls until you get there though. Asgore’s already given you advance permission to use the souls to break the barrier and attempt to find his errant ex-Royal Scientist. Papyrus had chosen not to mention the Amalgamates, which is probably for the best.

  
You volunteer to do dishes over everyone’s protests, reminding them that you aren’t physically injured. You spend a minute just letting the warm water wash over your skin and run in rivulets down your palm to your fingers before getting to work. You place to dishes on the drying rack to get to later. A few minutes in, footsteps behind you tell you that someone has joined you. You keep washing, saying, “Hey, if I’m in the way I’ll move.”

  
“You are not in my way,” Papyrus says. “I am here to help you.”

  
“Oh. You don’t have to do that, I can finish it on my own.”

  
“It is no trouble,” he says, stepping up next to you and beginning to dry and put away the dishes you’ve finished.

  
An uneasy sense of weight fills the kitchen. As you hand off a large sauce pan to Papyrus, you speak. “Ferrin said you’ve got something to talk to me about.”

  
“That is correct.” He doesn’t seem inclined to continue.

  
“Well, if you’ve got something to say this’s a good time to do it. Not that you have to.”

  
A long pause as Papyrus finds the other saucepans and puts the freshly washed one in with them. “I believe I remember telling you that you were not to hurt my brother.”

  
“Or else you’d be disappointed. I remember. For what it’s worth, I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought I was… I don’t know, saving you guys.”  
“I know your intentions were noble. Which is why I am not disappointed in you.”

  
“Wait. Really?”

  
Papyrus nods. “I am not saying I am happy that you did what you did, but I can understand it and I cannot hold it against you. Even if perhaps it was not entirely for our sakes.”

  
You wince. “If it helps, I didn’t realize that was a factor until one of the souls pointed it out to me.”

  
No response, just the quiet scrape of the sponge against ceramic and the less than quiet sounds of dishes being stacked back in their places.

  
“So… was that what you wanted to talk about?” you prompt.

  
“Not entirely. I wish to discuss Sans.”

  
“He’s really pissed at me, isn’t he?”

  
Papyrus sighs heavily. You look over to see that his expression is distant and filled with sorrow. “He is not angry with you. I believe that he decided to leave before seeing you to avoid taking his anger with himself and the situation out on you. I... have not really been trying to remember the resets before these past three. Remembering my deaths is not pleasant. Remembering the deaths of others is much less so. Some of those deaths are Sans’. Some by his own hand, or through carelessness uncharacteristic of him.”

  
You lean up against the sink, suddenly drained. “Yeah. He’s mentioned those before.”

  
Papyrus nods. “Sans has been my only family for as long as I can recall. Losing him was excruciating. I blamed myself, no matter what his final letter said. I should have known. I should have helped him, should not have yelled, should have been more patient. I have yet to confront him about this but he knows that I know. Now he knows what it is to lose someone of immense value to you and know that they chose to end their own life. Your circumstances were similar, and I believe that he is in part angry not with you, but himself for inflicting that on me. And if there is one thing that my brother is terrible at it is forgiving himself.”  
“I didn’t endure half of what he did. Not even one percent of it. I had no right to be that- that desperate already.”

  
“______. Pain is pain. Measuring it against others’ is a disservice to what you have endured.”

  
You give Papyrus a crooked smile. “Since when are you my therapist?”

  
“Since I started borrowing books from Undyne and the library in an effort to figure out how to help Sans.”

  
“Right.” You sigh, push yourself away from the counter, and turn to face Papyrus. “So what should I do Paps? I already know I can’t force the issue; I’ll have to wait for him to come to me. But I don’t know what I can possibly say once he does.”

  
“Just be honest. Sans is not unreasonable; he knows what the rest of us have already realized.”

  
“Well, I guess that makes it easy.” You try not to let that sound sarcastic.

  
“Perhaps.” Papyrus hesitates. “______, when he does speak with you, could you do me a favor?”

  
“I can try.”

  
“Please let him know that nothing I could remember in any past reset would change the fact that he has been my brother, parent, and best friend for my entire life. I want us to be honest with each other again.”

  
“I- Yeah, Paps, I can do that. You know he’s just trying to protect you, right?”

  
“He cannot protect me from reality and I will not stand to have him try to protect me from himself. If my brother is depressed, if he wants to commit suicide, if he is drinking to excess, then do you not think I would want to know? That I would want to be there for him?”

  
The desperation in his voice throws you off balance. You’d known he’s as good a liar - or maybe as good an actor? - as his brother, seeing as he managed to hide his concern from Sans in his efforts to support him. You still hadn’t realized he was this distressed. You reach out and cover his hand with yours. He looks up, tears in his sockets.

  
“Siblings like Sans and I… We can be idiots. We try to keep our younger siblings happy no matter what’s going on with us, and we forget that we’re not your parents no matter how much we’ve tried to make up for their failings. And in our minds, you’re- not quite still a child, but someone who has to be protected from how cruel the world can be. And we’re a part of that cruel world. So we end up trying to protect you from ourselves too.”

  
“But I do not need to be protected from Sans! Or by him!”

  
“I did say it was stupid.”

  
“How do I reach him then? I have tried, and nothing has worked!”

  
“Did you tell him what you told me?”

  
“Er… Well, no. I tried to be a little subtler.”

  
“Give up on subtle. He’s convinced you don’t understand how bad off he is. Sit him down and tell him what’s bothering you.”

  
“But I don’t know how to do that!”

  
“You just told me what’s bothering you. You’ve gotta do the same thing with him.”

  
He still looks hesitant. “But if you know how to resolve this problem, why have you not done it with your own sister?”

  
“I…” You hesitate. “The kids and whatever we were when we weren’t us helped me see it. I’m not exactly the same as I was before I fused with them. I’m guessing it did something to my soul.”

  
“What?!” Papyrus shouts.

  
You frantically shush him. “Don’t shout! I don’t want anyone else to know yet!”

  
“_______ this is serious! Souls do not change like that!”

  
“I feel fine! Besides, whose soul wouldn’t have been affected by all of that?”

  
“You are not wrong, but you should still see Toriel and find out if something is wrong,” he insists.

  
“I’m sure Toriel’s already checked it. Isn’t that like step one of healing?”

  
“Well, yes.”

  
“See? She would’ve said something if there was a problem. And it’s not like it’s an overwrite of my entire personality. It’s just that when we were fused together, the person that we were, they saw things a little more clearly than I did.“ You look away from his intent gaze as you confess what you should have known years ago. “I was stubbornly insisting that Ferrin needed my protection because if she didn’t, what right did I have to be in her life? The other me-not-me knew that she isn’t a kid anymore but they also made me see that she wanted me here anyways. Maybe I can’t protect her from the world, but that was never my job. I can be there as her sibling and best friend, which is all either of us want. Don’t know how putting it into practice will work out. But I’ve got to try and I think you should too.”

  
Papyrus still looks unconvinced. “I suppose you would know best, seeing as it is your soul. Are you certain such a method will work for my brother?”

  
“Pretty sure. If he ever talks to me again I’ll be sure to try to tell him what they told me.”

  
“It is strange to hear you refer to that person as separate from yourself.”

  
“Trust me, it was a weird experience.”

  
“Do you think-”

  
“Hey, guys, you forget how to wash dishes or something?” Ferrin’s voice abruptly breaks into your conversation. She’s standing in the doorway, looking at the both of you with an entirely too innocent expression. Eavesdropping then. Ah well. You’d meant to talk to her about it anyways.

  
“Nah, just started talking and ended up ignoring the dishes,” you say. “We’ll be done in just a sec though.”

  
“Sounds good. I’m gonna try to convince Toriel to let Frisk and I use her ancient computer to watch Mew Mew Kissy Cutie. Alphys loves it and I saw the finale of season three when I was like ten so I don’t remember anything, and Frisk is curious anyways.”

  
“Didn’t you leave your anime phase behind after your second year of high school?” you ask.

  
“If I start ending my sentences with ‘Nya~’ it’ll be time for an intervention. Until then, gonna enjoy cat girls doing cat girl things.”

  
“You do that.”

  
Ferrin leaves and you dip your hands back into the now lukewarm water to finish the dishes. The two of you work silently. As you drain the water, final fork

handed off to Papyrus, he speaks up.

  
“Thank you for your advice. You may be- You are right. It is high time I speak with my brother frankly, and high time the two of you spoke. If it is any consolation, I believe he knows he is being unreasonable.”

  
“I just wish he’d let me talk to him. Or at least tell me why he’s avoiding me.”

  
“He will sooner or later. But for now, let us go join Ferrin and Frisk! I, too, am curious about the cat girls.” Papyrus pauses. “Or do most humans have cat ears?”

  
“Ha ha. You know nobody has cat ears.”

  
“Cats have cat ears.”

  
“You know what, fair enough.”

  
The anime isn’t terrible, but it is pretty boring. According to Alphys the first few episodes are dull exposition and the series really picks up in the middle of the sixth episode. You’re yawning by the beginning of the second episode, and your eyelids keep shutting on their own through the third. At some point you must fall asleep because you wake up to a darkened house. You sit up and a blanket falls down your shoulder to pool by your waist. You’re on Toriel’s recliner, and Papyrus, Ferrin, and Abe are all sleeping on the ground around you.

  
You try falling back asleep. You really do. But you’d slept for most of the day, and your mind and body are well-rested enough to keep you from sinking back into dreamland.

  
You get up carefully, trying not to wake anyone. You have one hand on the door knob when you pause, looking back at Ferrin’s sleeping form. You tip toe over and crouch next to her.

  
“Fer,” you whisper. “Ferrin. Wake up for just a sec.”

  
“Wassup?” she says, voice slurred with sleep.

  
“I’m going out for a little bit. I thought you might like to know.”

  
Her eyes sharpen. “What about Flowey?”

  
“I guarantee you he’s not a problem. Like I said earlier, he’s still being affected by the merge with everyone’s souls.”

  
“Be careful?”

  
“I promise.”

  
“Okay. See you in a little bit?”

  
“I won’t be gone long. See you in the morning.”

  
“M’ kay.”

  
You hear her settle back under the covers as you sneak back to the door. The door closes quietly behind you. You hope she’ll be able to get back to sleep.  
You take a deep breath of the chill air of Toriel’s front yard. It’s quieter than you’d been expecting. Some part of you is straining to hear the familiar rush of cars, or the movement of nighttime prowlers through the woods. Instead the darkness is filled with the quiet chirp of crickets. It’s also gently lit with glowing aqua stones that you’d never noticed in the light of day. You follow them away from Toriel’s home and take a left as you leave it behind. The little outcropping that overlooks the mostly abandoned city is as beautiful as you’d thought it was in the game. It’s even prettier now, lit with the same blue stones as the rest of the caverns of Home. Some sections are darker than others. Perhaps the stones that were once there can now be found lighting halls in Waterfall or the forests of Snowdin. Or maybe they now light new homes, brought along on a journey to a better life as a memory of the old. The buildings that you can see have fallen somewhat to disrepair. A few are beginning their descent into complete rubble.

  
You take a seat with your legs dangling into the deep abyss below. It isn’t as frightening as it probably should be. Might be a lingering sense of invincibility from the souls. Might also be the intense aura of safety that this space gives off, despite its slow fall into a skeleton of the city it once was.

  
Little goosebumps are beginning to rise on your legs from the chill air. You trace a finger down your skin, feeling it, silky smooth and pleasantly warm. Your finger travels in reverse, rubbing the hairs the wrong way. Not pleasant, but not really unpleasant either. You breathe in until your lungs won’t hold any more and breathe out until there’s nothing left. Your hand comes up and presses against the soft skin where your neck and jaw join. There’s your heartbeat, evidence of your body working hard to keep you alive. The taste of unbrushed teeth - you’ve got to remember to ask Toriel for toothpaste-, the slightly musty, damp scent of the caves all around, little rocks pressing against the underside of your thighs… You take it in and feel your soul grow a little more accustomed to being within a fleshy vessel once more.

  
What a strange little miracle it is to be here at all. Alive despite the best efforts of a not-exactly-evil scientist and a lost, angry goat child.

  
Tomorrow, you will get up, gather your friends, and find Gaster. Tomorrow, you will dig Flowey out of whatever hole he has found to hide in. Tomorrow, you will test your theory.

  
But today, you’re just glad to be here to look forward to tomorrow.

  
A long while after you arrived, as you’re beginning to think that the cold isn’t worth the view, shuffling footsteps catch your attention. A blue and white figure steps into the corner of your vision.

  
“Knock knock.”

  
“Who’s there?”

  
“Ape.”

  
“Ape who?”

  
“Ape-ology.”

  
You might’ve laughed, if you weren’t so apprehensive. “And Asriel said my jokes were bad.”

  
“Well, considering you did steal that one about the orange from me…”

  
“Oh, right.”

  
“So, this seat taken?”

  
“Nope.”

  
Sans sits down beside you quietly. Before you can begin to figure out what you’re supposed to say here, he speaks.

  
“Seriously though. Sorry. I shouldn’t’ve… Leaving without saying anything to you wasn’t right.”

  
“Don’t worry about it,” you say quickly.

  
Sans just sighs. He begins speaking several times before he finally says, “I don’t do this whole ‘sayin’ what you mean’ thing very well.”

  
“That’s okay. We don’t have to have this discussion tonight.”

  
“We sorta do.”

  
You wince. You were sort of hoping he’d take the out and let you off the hook. You want to avoid this conversation, but you also aren’t sure you know how to articulate what you’ve realized yet. “I guess you’re right.”

  
Still, he doesn’t speak. You’re glad that at least you’re not the only one with no idea how to begin this conversation, but his silence puts the ball square in your corner.

  
“I’m sorry too. For something much worse than being angry at me for being an idiot.” You sigh. “It made sense, at the time. Die to save everyone else from slow insanity as Flowey tortured us. And if he wanted to burn the human world… maybe we’d earned it. I’ve always known humans were plenty capable of being violent and angry. My parents made sure of that. That everyone reacted so poorly to you monsters only proved it. You were shot at, threatened, forced to live in tents while the government refused perfectly good gold just because you were the ones holding it. So I think a part of me believed that humanity had had our turn, and if we were replaced by a kinder rule of the world under monsterkind, maybe it was just because we’d earned it.

  
“I was wrong. Ferrin, Abe, Frisk, Chara, the kids, the hundreds of people who were calling on our government to just fucking do the right thing… Me. We were doing our best just like you guys. Despair does strange things to your head.”

  
“You let him kill you because humanity deserved it?” Sans asks, confusion clear in his voice.

  
“No. Sorry. My head is still sort of all over the place. I was thinking about tomorrow, when we’re going to have to deal with that again. And about Chara. I think I get it now, the way that they were thinking when they killed themself. But no, that wasn’t why I did it.” You turn to look at Sans, meeting his gaze, then looking away. “I let him kill me because I was running away. I really did want to save everyone. I did. I wanted the people I love to live on. But if I’m being honest, I was terrified of what came next. What’s coming next after I break the barrier with everyone else. I won’t be able to hide anymore. I will be at the forefront of the push to get you all recognized as citizens. People will want interviews, the monsters will need me to be a symbol of strength alongside Asgore and Toriel, humanity will look at every aspect of my life and judge my decisions. And that terrified me. I’d had a taste of fame when my books became popular and it scared me. Former friends had spoken up about the things I’d said in confidence and people suddenly really, really cared about a fanfiction.net account I’d had when I was younger. Everything I’d ever done was on display.

  
“Maybe I was being ridiculous. But combined with an unhealthy idea of how the greatest gesture of love for another person or group of people is to sacrifice yourself for them, the torture of dying and seeing your loved ones die over and over, sheer desperation, and the fact that when I looked at the future all I saw were obstacles and pain… Letting Flowey kill me seemed like the right answer.

  
“He made me realize what I’d done. That I was being selfish, not good or noble or whatever other pretty words people have used to describe martyring yourself for others. Not that he was trying to help or that it was helpful at the time. I thought what was done was done then, but here we are. So I’m done running. Monsterkind needs a strong human ally and I will be that for them. Humans need to see that we can coexist with monsters and I will show them that. I don’t care that it’s the fate Gaster assigned me, I’m going to accept it instead of letting the fear rule.

 

“I know that’s not a good enough reason for abandoning you and everyone else. But I figured you deserve honesty after everything that happened.”

  
It’s strangely freeing to tell someone the entirety of your reasons for choosing to die. You have said what you wanted to say, bared everything for Sans to judge you. There’s no way to know what he will say, whether he will condemn or pardon you. Either way, or any of the choices inbetween, you have nothing else to add. The silence stretches on. He neither speaks nor moves to leave. You try not to wonder what is on his mind.

  
“I get running away. Did it myself a few times. Knowing Papyrus needed me never stopped me. So I get it. I just don’t like it.” He sounds tired. “But I shouldn’t’ve held it against you, that was shitty.”

  
“No, I understand, what I did was inexcusable. I’m sorry. I’d undo it if I could.”

  
“It isn’t like I’m any better,” he says tiredly. “No more apologizing. We did it, let’s just move on, alright?”

  
“Right. That’s… probably best. Papyrus talked to me about this too you know.”

  
“He did.” Sans’ voice sounds tight.

  
“He doesn’t blame you for what you did. He said he’s tried to talk to you about it before, but he was trying to be subtle and you didn’t pick up on it.”

  
“I did a couple of times.”

  
“I figured. I told him to quit being subtle and say what he needs to.”

  
“Thanks,” he says dryly.

  
“It’s what’s best for both of you. I told him you mean well even though it must be frustrating to be treated like a kid by someone you really care for.”

  
“And you can lecture me ‘cause you’re gonna talk to Ferrin?” he asks skeptically.

  
“I am.”

  
“Since when are you the confrontational type?” He sounds surprised.

  
You chuckle. “Never. But the person that I was when my soul was merged with the others’ helped me see things more clearly. Sometimes you’ve gotta have someone else to tell you that you’re a moron.”

  
“‘S that what you’re telling me?”

  
“Yup. We’re both idiots, if that helps.”

  
“Fair enough.”

  
He doesn’t say anything more. He might consider the conversation over, but you’ve got more to say. The words are heavy on your tongue, unwilling to spill out into the air. You find your courage and take the plunge.

  
“There’s… something I need to say about us,” you force yourself to say. Looks like you’ll be spilling your guts again.

  
“So do I. Mind if I get it done with first?”

  
“Nope. Go ahead.”

  
Sans says nothing for a long time, long enough for you to remember that you’re slowly turning into a popsicle. Or at least a very chilly human.

  
“Ya weren’t the only one who made mistakes,’ Sans finally says, staring out over the city without seeing it. “I never really believed that the resets were over. But I thought maybe if I threw myself into making some kind of attempt to live like I did, then eventually I’d convince myself too. So I had to get a normal life. Find a place for Paps and I to live, try to help Asgore, take care of myself instead of relying on my bro. Date somebody and actually mean it. Tori was out, so I went for the first person that drew my attention. I’m not sayin’ you were some kind of second place winner or that I’d rather still be datin’ her. Her and I are better off as friends. But I didn’t… I wanted something that was totally new. I wanted to give myself a new start to convince myself that this time was really going to be different. I really did enjoy dating you. You were - are - a bright point in my life. But I was and still am trying to get better and I used you as a stepping stone and I’m sorry.”

  
That hurts, but it makes what you’ve realized easier to say too. “Right. Guess it’s my turn then. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was reflecting on it later and… I’ve never really had a plan. For life, I mean. I just wanted to do what I could for Ferrin when I was younger, and when I realized how many people were looking up to me I ran away. I was hiding at that house in the middle of a nowhere town where people knew me by my uncle and not my books. It was lonely even with Ferrin around.

  
“Then a few weeks before we met, I tried reconnecting with an old friend. He was only two years older than me, but he’d already married. A wife, two kids. Hell, he had a house and a steady job. Friends he saw every day at work or on the weekends. He was shocked when he heard I was single. Said I only had so long before I couldn’t have any of it.

  
“Logically I knew it was bullshit. I couldn’t take care of a kid, not living like I was. Didn’t want to get married to anybody I knew. Wasn’t meeting anybody holed up in my room. But I knew Ferrin was worried about me too. So I started thinking that I had to become… someone I wasn’t. Someone responsible, with a spouse, two point five kids, a white picket fence- Right. None of that means anything to you. Point is, I had to start living up to expectation.

  
“And then suddenly there you were. You checked all of my boxes. Funny, accepting, smart, attractive, low-energy just like me, passionate when you’ve got a reason to be. You saw me for who I was, instead of who you wanted me to be. You had your fair share of problems so I didn’t have to feel bad about having mine. You obviously loved your brother as much as I love my sister, which was a bonus. You like kids, so if we did want a family we could have one. Ferrin likes you and your brother….” you trail off, embarrassed when you realize how weird it was to go on like that about Sans.

  
“A-anyways. You get the idea. But… some part of me wonders if I took advantage of you. You were living in my house, your brother and friends were indebted to me, if I ever said anything negative about you Abe would’ve taken my side instead of yours. I wonder if maybe you not being able to leave was a part of why I latched onto you so quickly.”

  
“You’d never do that,” Sans says instantly. “_______, look at me. You wouldn’t do that. Ever. And I was the one who asked you out, remember? How could you’ve taken advantage of me when I made that decision?”

  
“I started flirting with you. If you knew I was interested, maybe you felt obliged to do what you did.”

  
“You were drunk. And I didn’t feel obliged to do shit. I asked you out because I liked you. You’re attractive, smart, you like bad jokes, you’re kind to a fault. You forgive easy, which is good because I’m a damn idiot. You never looked at us and saw charity cases, just people who needed help regardless of what anyone thought. You’ve got this hidden fire. I saw it when you stood up to me when I showed up in your yard, when you told me off for stealing your stuff, when you were singing by yourself in your kitchen, when you fought for us in that supermarket parking lot. It’s beautiful. Just like your soul. And Paps loves you and your sister.” Sans’ cheek bones are a light blue, his eyelights not quite meeting your eyes. “So yeah. It definitely wasn’t pity.”

  
You nod and try to crush the hope in your chest. “So where does this leave us?”

  
“I dunno. Where do we want to be?”

  
You suppose that if ever there was a time for honesty, it’s now. “I don’t want to stop being in a relationship with you. But I also don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. So. What do you want, Sans?”

  
A sigh, and a very long pause. You don’t try to fill the silence, tempted as you are to tell him that you don’t need an answer now.

  
“I didn’t spend these last few hours sitting around mopin’, you know. Not the whole time at least. I’m tired ______. Most of me feels stuck in realities that never happened. At least, not this time. I’m absolutely still trying to figure out how all of you can forgive that little brat,” Sans spits, then sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “And that fucking flower. I don’t want Frisk within two hundred miles of my brother. And I don’t do emotions very well, or being honest. You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to end this conversation with a pun or a joke. I’ve got a lot to work on. But I know this much. I can’t hate you for doing what you did and it wouldn’t be fair if I did. You loved us enough to want to die for us. All of us.

  
“And yeah, I’d rather you’d chosen to live for us. But if I’d had the choice I’d have done the same. So maybe we’re both fucked in the head,” he says with another heavy sigh.

  
“I don’t know about ‘fucked in the head’ but I am thinking we could all use some therapy sessions after this. I know somebody from high school that probably won’t care if she’s helping monsters or humans... Sorry. Off topic. Like I said, not really a lot of filter right now.”

  
“‘S fine. I was ramblin’ too. Before I give you your answer, tell me. Could there be another reset after you’re done here? After you’ve done whatever else you feel needs getting done?”

  
“I don’t know,” you say honestly. You look out over the old city and try to explain your thoughts. “On the one hand, I think we can break the magic sustaining the resets with all of us together. On the other, is that really for the best? What if something goes catastrophically wrong? What if we get rid of the ability to reset and then we need it? I don’t even know what we’d do in that situation.”

  
You glance at Sans. He doesn’t look thrilled, but he also doesn’t look as angry as you’d been worried he would be. “Had the same problem with the kid before. I wanted to tell them just don’t ever reset again and call it a day, but with everything that happened in the previous timelines we both knew that would never work.”

  
“Yup. So I don’t think I would make it impossible to reset. There’s a good chance that once the underground is emptied we’ll never be able to reset again though. Which, like we just agreed, might be bad too. Sorry for the non-answer.”

  
“Honestly that’s just about how this whole thing has been going anyways. So. Resets might be a thing.”

  
“Could be.”

  
“Well. If time-travelling, dimension crossing bullshit is my fate, so be it. I’m callin’ it quits on pretending. Papyrus doesn’t deserve that. And I’ve decided that before. But I’ve sort of realized my only options are give up entirely or figure out how to live with it. Things’ve changed this time ‘round too. Everybody remembers the resets now. And, well, you’re here. That’s a nice change.”

  
Your expression twists into a bitter smile. “Provided I’m not going off and killing myself in some kind of-”

  
A thin hand covers your mouth, silencing you. You look over to see Sans giving you a stern look.

  
“I just said no more of that. We’re done living like the resets control us. I’m sick and fucking tired of it and I’m sick and fucking tired of being sick and fucking tired.”

  
“Sounds like you need a nap.”

  
Sans rolls his eye lights. “I do. Not my point. If I’m gonna move on then so’re you.”

  
You smile, laughing softly. “Never thought you’d be the one saying that.”

  
“Neither did I.”

  
“I like that though. I’m pretty sick and fucking tired of being sick and fucking tired too.”

  
“It sucks.”

  
“Glad we agree on that. So where does that leave us? ‘Us’ us, not us as, you know, people.”

  
“How’d you know I was gonna make a joke about you needing a map?”

  
Your mouth moves before your brain can stop it. “Buddy, the only reason I’m gonna need a map is because I’m lost in your eyes.”

  
Sans gives you a flat look and for an instant you think you’ve crossed a line. “That was the worst delivery of the worst pickup line ever and I bet you’re proud of yourself.”

  
You grin despite yourself. “I sort of am. But honestly, you gave me the perfect window there.”

  
“Stars, I forgot how amazing you are.”

  
You’re half expecting a punchline, but Sans is serious. Suddenly you are very aware of the fact that he’s still leaning in close to you. You can feel your face heating up.

  
“Guess it’s time to give you your answer,” Sans says quietly. “I’ve got problems. You’ve got problems. We live in a world that could rewind at any moment. We’ve both died too many times to count. Nothing about this, or us, is going to be perfect. And if you’re still willing to have me, I’d like to give dating another shot. Maybe I can take you somewhere better than a greasy bar for our first date this time ‘round.”

  
“Sans… Of course I’m willing to. I like you. A lot.”

  
“There’s a word for that,” Sans jokes.

  
“Yeah, there is. But I want to do this as right as we can. Let’s go on dumb dates, get in silly arguments, watch movies that are so bad that they’re good, and then let’s stumble over each other when we try to say that word for the first time. Let’s have the most glacial romance in the history of the world because we’ve got all the time we could ever want to enjoy it.”

  
Sans chuckles. “I’d like that.”

  
You notice his tentative glance down at your lips and, well, it might not count as glacially slow, but it would fulfill the sudden yearning in your soul. The deep seated need for reassurance that he doesn’t secretly hate you.

  
“Question.”

  
“Yeah?” His voice is quiet, intimate.

  
“Can I kiss you?”

  
His hand reaches up and cups your cheek gently, and there’s that smile that’s so much smaller than his normal expression but so much more sincere. You take that for the consent that it is and lean in to meet him halfway.

  
There, under the glowing stones of the underground, you and Sans have your first kiss. And without secrets, without hidden hurts, with your visions for the future out there in the open and acknowledged, it’s even sweeter than all of the ones before it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Reader have reached the same conclusion that most people with severe mental illness do - you're either dying from it or you've got to learn how to live with it. I don't know if I heard the line about being sick and tired of being sick and tired from someone else or if I came up with it myself, but it's sort of been my motto for recovery. I like to think it would work for others too.
> 
> Side note since we're talking about Reader's fame here. Some people have suggested I'm speaking from personal experience about how stressful it can be and as flattering as it is that some of you think I'm any kind of famous, I promise you I am not. Semi-well known in the Undertale fandom? Maybe? (I genuinely have no idea.) But even so I like hearing about how much you guys like the story! I like knowing you spent all night reading and it's five AM and you can't believe you've stayed up all night. It's great motivation when I'm tired from many consecutive morning shifts at work to know that you like my silly story enough to leave me comments. Reader's Reader and I'm me. So please don't ever think I don't appreciate all of your comments even if for a while now I haven't been able to reply.


End file.
